


You Go To My Head

by ras_elased



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-29
Updated: 2008-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ras_elased/pseuds/ras_elased





	1. Chapter 1

_**You Go To My Head (P1)**_

  
**Title**: You Go to My Head  
**Author**: Ras Elased  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Pairing**: Jared/Jensen  
**Word Count**: 35,765  
** Summary**: The year is 1938, and Jared Padalecki has just bought a small vineyard in the midst of Depression-era California. He has poured his heart and soul into working the land and creating the perfect wine, but he is still struggling to make ends meet. When he hires a drifter named Jensen to help during the summer harvest, he thinks his biggest problem is coming up with the money to pay Jensen's wage, but he soon finds himself inexplicably drawn to the mysterious man. Jensen's got street smarts and a mean right hook, but he's unprepared for the challenge of fighting off Jared's advances as well as his own simmering attraction. Jared's attention threatens to uncover the dark past Jensen left behind in Chicago, a past he's been running from, and a past that is about to catch up with them both…

  


* * *

_**June, 1935**_

  
Jared closed his eyes and raised his face to the sun. He felt the early summer warmth on his sun-browned skin and took a deep breath. Napa Valley was quite a ways from the coast, but when the wind blew over the hills just right, sometimes Jared still thought he could smell the faint hint of salt in the air along with the musty smell of the earth. Jared stood there for a moment, hands in his pockets and straw cowboy hat tilted back off his sweaty forehead, soaking up the memories.

"Hey, kid! You gonna buy this place, or are you just wasting my time?" a vaguely annoyed voice called. Jared turned towards the source of the interruption, a middle-aged banker in a fine white suit. He clearly didn't think much of Jared, hadn't even bothered to put on the charm Jared knew he would ooze with a more upscale client. The orange-yellow dust had collected on the cuffs of the banker's white pants, and he kept trying to brush it off with the same handkerchief he used to wipe the sweat beading heavily on his brow. So far, Jared had managed to keep a straight face when confronted with the smear of orange mud across the guy's forehead. "Because if you're only interested in jerking my chain, I got another interested buyer, and I don't have to put up with this."

Jared didn't reply, just looked out over the vineyard, trying to see it as he remembered it, as it could be again. Instead of the current tangled mess of green where the vines had grown wild in places and the bare, knobby brown where it had died in others, Jared saw it as he had at sixteen, when Jeff had taken him in and shown him how to care for the grapes.

The stock market crash of '29 had turned the nation's pocketbook inside out, and even Jared's family had been hit hard on their small farm in Texas. Knowing the cost of another mouth to feed, especially a mouth like Jared's, he had left home to find work. He followed the crowd, hitching rides west, until he arrived in California. He spent some time in drifter camps by the roadside, working odd jobs and struggling just to scrape by, until a man named Jeffrey Dean Morgan hired him as a grape picker at Hearts Vineyard.

From the moment Jared stepped out between the rows of purple fruit, he'd felt a strange connection to the land. For that reason or another, Jeff had seen something in Jared and had taken a shine to him, but it still didn't stop him from slapping the back of Jared's head every time he caught Jared eating the grapes instead of picking them. Under the bright California sun, Jared had learned how to prune and train the vines, how to crush their fruit into wine, and he'd breathed in every lesson until it felt like the place was in his blood. Drifters had come and gone, but Jared had stayed on as a hired hand for two years, learning the ropes of the wine business, until the bank foreclosure took away the place that had become his home. Jeff had been fighting a losing battle, trying to sustain the vineyard in the midst of Prohibition, and in the end it drained him dry.

Jeff had headed up north somewhere, and Jared had found other work and saved when he could. Prohibition had been repealed, and still the land had remained untended for three long years, passing hands between the aristocrats back east like a commodity to be traded and bragged about at fancy dinner parties.

Jared looked back at the banker—now using a handkerchief to wipe the dust from his shiny patent leather shoes—and tried to picture the vineyard in the hands of a man like that, a man who didn't respect or love the land, who didn't know that the southern slope doesn't drain like it should, because there's a layer of clay under the sandy soil. A man who didn't know that the hills on the western border got the perfect amount of sun, but the chill Pacific wind meant the grapes took longer to ripen.

The weeds had nearly taken over in places. The stucco on the house was starting to crack and flake, and the door to the wine cellar had fallen off its hinges. Jared picked up a stake that had rotted and crumpled under the weight of an untamed vine. He tried to set it right without much success.

"Christ, kid," the banker swore. "I don't know why I let you drag me out here. If you're not gonna buy the place, let's just go." Jared ignored him in his idle quest to repost the stake.

It would clean him out. He'd have barely enough money left over to buy the rootstock he'd need to replace the dead vines. He'd have to do odd jobs in town to earn money for food, but even then he'd probably end up stealing produce from the neighboring farms just to survive. Well, it's not like he hadn't done it before. It would be just like the good old days.

Jared released the stake, watching it topple over into the weeds. Then he turned to the banker and smiled wide in the face of that sour expression, teeth shining white in the California sun. "I'll take it."

* * *

_**Three years later**_

Jensen stared at his last can of cold baked beans. It was either this or walk two miles down the road to the tomato farm and steal his breakfast, and that wasn't an option for Jensen. He was eating honest or he wasn't eating at all.

He took a bite of his cold beans and looked around the camp. It was about the same as most of the other camps he'd been through, rusty old cars parked haphazardly just off the side of the road, makeshift tents pitched nearby, full of migrant workers looking for jobs in California after their savings had dried up back home. There were a couple of siblings from Kansas, a lady from Wisconsin, and a few guys from Nebraska, Oklahoma, and Arkansas. A married couple and their kid from Tennessee had passed through before being hired on as bean pickers for a farm towards the south. If anybody asked where Jensen was from, he always told them Texas. Technically, it wasn't a lie.

People milled about outside their tents, making breakfast or cleaning pots and pans, scraping them out as best they could without running water. Some of them laughed and chatted back and forth, but most didn't give Jensen a second glance. After he'd arrived at the camp, some guy named Mike had given him a rather enthusiastic interrogation and gotten little from Jensen besides half-mumbled responses and a few less-than-polite comments. Mike's mouth proved to be just as large and loud as Jensen had suspected, and it didn't take long before word of Jensen's reticence got around and he developed something of a reputation as the outcast among outcasts. Everybody seemed to understand that Jensen kept to himself, and he appreciated that. The less anyone prodded him for the story of how he'd ended up here, the better for everyone involved.

Jensen hadn't been on the road long. It had taken him less than six months to hitch his way from Chicago to California, working odd jobs along the way, and so far it all looked the same to him. He figured that just meant it was easier to get lost in the ragged, faceless crowd.

Jensen didn't notice the truck until it was almost on top of them. Vehicles drove by on the road all day long, and very few of them ever stopped. The truck slowly squeaked to a halt alongside the camp, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. It was old, a couple decades at least, and the bed was basically a wooden pallet with a plank rail attached to each side. Jensen could hear the gears grind as the truck was shut off and two men stepped out. Jensen adjusted the brim of his grey newsboy cap to get a better look at them. The shorter one was blonde, dressed in faded jeans and a graying shirt. The other one was so tall he towered over even Jensen. He had hazel-green eyes and wavy brown hair covered by a beat up straw cowboy hat, and he was wearing dusty, worn overalls. When he spoke, it was with a bright smile and a slight country drawl that instantly made Jensen's ears perk up.

"Howdy y'all!" Jensen almost laughed at the cheerful greeting amidst the sea of unwashed faces. The rest of the camp had taken notice of the new arrival and were starting to gather round. "My name's Jared and this here's Chad." The blonde at his side gave a half-hearted wave. "We've got a vineyard up the road a bit, and we're looking for a couple of folks who're willing to help us tend the vines while the grapes ripen." Jared put his hands on his hips and looked at his shoes for a minute, and when he looked back up his smile was less sure. "It's hard labor, and I can't pay much. You'd get two dollars for every day you work, plus room and board. It's not much, and it's not easy, so if it doesn't sound like your kinda work then you'd best speak up now."

Jensen almost snorted into the silence. Clearly, this kid didn't know how badly everyone here needed the work to eat.

Jared nodded when no one seemed to reject his offer, then quickly glanced over each member of the assembly. Chad just hopped up and sat on the truck bed, chewing on a toothpick while Jared scanned the crowd for potential workers. His eyes fell on Jensen last, and Jensen was suddenly very aware that he was wearing a sweat-stained undershirt that hadn't been washed in three days, and there was dirt under his fingernails. He hadn't shaved in a week. He'd ripped his pants at the knee several states back, but he hadn't bothered to mend them. Jensen fiddled with his suspender straps self-consciously and looked away.

When he glanced back up, Jared had moved on. He was now facing a tall, dark-haired man named Tom, who had one arm slung around the waist of his extremely pregnant sister, Becca. At first Jensen had assumed the other guy who hung around with them, Mike, was the baby's father, but after watching them together he'd dismissed that thought quickly. He'd never asked about what happened to the father—whether he'd abandoned the girl or if she was a young widow—despite the fact that he was sure Mike would volunteer their entire life story in a heartbeat.

Jared said something Jensen couldn't hear, and then Tom nodded with a solemn smile on his face. The next thing Jensen knew, they were packing up their belongings. Mike immediately clapped Jared on the shoulder and said in a loud, overly friendly voice that held no hint of a request in his tone, "Where he goes, I go." Jared hazarded a glance at Chad, who just shrugged and continued chewing on his toothpick.

Jared shook his head, then said with an air of someone who knew he'd eventually regret his decision, "Okay, grab your stuff."

Mike headed for his pack with a victorious whoop. Jared watched him go with a hesitant smile, then turned to the crowd and announced that he had all the help he needed. The collected faces fell. Jensen felt his hopes drop with the rest of the crowd, and he wondered how long he could go without work before he gave in and headed up to the road for a few stolen tomatoes. People reluctantly dispersed, heading back to whatever they were doing before the interruption. Jensen set about organizing his few meager belongings, and after a few moments he chanced a look back towards the truck. Mike and Tom were helping Becca waddle her way into the truck bed, but Jared's eyes were locked on Jensen with an intensity that sent a warning spike of adrenaline down Jensen's spine. Did Jared recognize him? From what Jensen knew about the kid after only a few short minutes, he didn't think it was likely the guy had ever frequented the gambling halls and speakeasies of Chicago, but, well, it wouldn't be the first time Jensen had been wrong about something. He didn't trust his own judgment too well these days.

Jared was walking towards him now, waving off something Chad was saying, and Jensen really couldn't say he liked the way Jared was looking at him, a little too intense to be casual curiosity. He felt his guts swirl unnervingly as Jared stopped in front of him and flashed that brilliant smile. "Hey," he greeted. "I didn't catch your name."

Jensen eyed him warily. "I didn't throw it," he said, then turned back to shaking the dust from his sleeping blanket. Maybe if he ignored the kid he'd go away.

"Name's Jared, in case you missed it before," Jared said, then held out his hand, undeterred. Jensen stared at it for a second, but even after all this time his mamma's lessons still stuck with him, and he couldn't bring himself to turn his back. He slid his palm gruffly against Jared's and found the skin warm and rough, like his own.

"Jensen," he replied gruffly, then quickly released Jared's hand.

Jared crossed his arms over his chest and continued to smile. "You ever done any agricultural work before, Jensen?" It was a simple yes or no question, but Jensen just stared at him blankly, not wanting to reveal that he didn't have the first clue how to work on a farm. Jared's smile turned warm and knowing. "City boy, huh?"

Jensen stiffened. It was a seemingly innocent comment, but if Jensen got traced back to Chicago, his life was over. Literally. Still, he didn't think the kid had recognized him, so he huffed a humorless laugh and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, trying to relax. "Is it that obvious?" he asked, genuinely worried, because it meant he wasn't doing a very good job of blending in.

"Like a sore thumb," Jared teased, all dimples, and damn if Jensen didn't feel a blush creeping up his neck. He ducked his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, and when he looked up Jared was still smiling at him. Jensen was so surprised by his own sheepish grin that he nearly missed Jared's next words. "So, how fast can you pack up?"

* * *

The truck rumbled down the road, protesting the whole way. Jared had bought the old Model A for dirt cheap, then used a bit of plywood to convert the back seat into a short truck bed. It wasn't pretty, but it was functional.

Chad was leaning against the passenger door, feet propped awkwardly on the dash, picking his teeth and staring at Jared. Jared just stared straight ahead, hands tense on the wheel. He knew what his friend was thinking, he was just waiting for him to get around to saying it. As was usual with Chad, he didn't have to wait long. "We came out here because you needed to hire two workers," he said conversationally.

Jared frowned at the road, as if it could somehow offer up deliverance from this conversation. "I know," he answered.

"Now we have four."

Jared sighed a little. "I know."

"That's an extra fifty bucks. Each."

Jared tried not to clench his teeth. "I know."

Chad shrugged. "Whatever. It's your money. I'm just here for the free booze," he said, then continued to stare as he sucked loudly on that damned toothpick. If Jared were to chance a look sideways, he knew he'd see Chad's 'thoughtful' face, which didn't seem to differ much from his 'drunk' face aside from slightly squintier eyes. "So I get why you brought along the pregnant broad. You've always been a sucker for charity cases, you giant girl."

"Never bothered you before," Jared interrupted sullenly. Jared had met Chad on the road years ago, but while Jared had eventually saved enough to put down roots, Chad definitely hadn't. He'd become something of a professional drifter, floating from town to town and job to job, making sure to drop by Jared's vineyard whenever he was in town, to eat all of Jared's food and drink wine he never paid for. Jared sometimes wondered if the friendship was entirely voluntary on his part, or if Chad just blindsided Jared without giving him a chance to protest.

Chad smiled around his toothpick and raised an eyebrow, deliberately misinterpreting Jared's words. "I'm your best friend, it's my job to put up with your girliness. Be nice if you had the tits, though." He tilted his head and seemed to consider it a moment, then added, "But it'd be weird if you still had a cock. I mean, I know that's your thing and all, but I'm not gonna—"

"This is a very disturbing conversation," Jared mumbled. Just because Chad knew Jared was gay and seemed okay with that didn't mean Jared wanted to put up with Chad's deranged ramblings.

"Speaking of cock," Chad continued, suddenly sitting up at attention, "is that why you grabbed the fourth guy?"

"What? No!" Jared scoffed. Well, okay, he'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed that Jensen was attractive. Gorgeous, even, under all that road grime. But that wasn't why Jared had offered him the job. He could tell right away that Jensen was different from the usual drifters he had encountered. Most people had been worn down by life on the road, but not Jensen. He carried himself with a kind of square-shouldered, graceful confidence that reminded Jared of soldiers or professional athletes, people who didn't have to beg or steal to put food on the table. Still, there had been a darker presence about him, something that made him look shadowed and a little lost. There was something wild and broken hiding behind those vine-green eyes that reminded Jared of the vineyard as he'd found it, abandoned and neglected and definitely a fixer-upper, and well, Chad was right. Jared had always been a sucker for charity cases. Jared hazarded a glance at Chad and said, "It's just…he looked like he could use a friendly hand, is all."

Chad's eyebrows climbed up his forehead.

"Not like that!" Jared protested, but Chad looked unconvinced.

It was going to be a long ride back to the vineyard.

* * *

If Jensen was honest with himself, he had his doubts about the kid before ever pulling up to his place. The sight of the vineyard only confirmed them. Admittedly, the place seemed to be as well kept as only a couple of guys could manage. The house was fairly large for the size of the vineyard, and its size was compounded by the addition on the side of what Jensen could only guess must be the entrance to an underground wine cellar. The vines growing up the face of the house seemed stuck in a state of confusion between an overgrown mess and artfully trimmed, and the paint was starting to peel a little around the windows. The land itself was smaller than Jensen had imagined, though it took up several of the surrounding hills. Overall, Jensen really couldn't see much of a difference from the dozens of other dying farms he'd passed on his way across the Midwest. He wondered if the kid would be able to pay their wages at all.

The moment they rumbled to a stop, two dogs came bounding around the side of the house and made a beeline toward the truck. Jared shut off the ignition with an ominous grinding of gears that set Jensen's teeth on edge, then leapt out the driver's side door with his arms thrown open wide. Both dogs immediately jumped into Jared's giant wingspan and began slobbering all over his face, tails wagging madly. Jared petted them until they had calmed down somewhat, then turned to find his assembled crew taking in the enthusiastic greeting. "Don't worry," he smiled. "They're real friendly."

"Too friendly," Chad said, glaring at the dogs from the relative safety offered by the opposite side of the car.

"I keep telling you, Harley's just asserting his dominance."

"Yeah, well why does he have to 'assert his dominance' with my leg?"

Jared snorted, a wry grin hinting at one corner of his mouth. "You just make it worse by fighting it. If you'd just relax, it'd be over before you know it."

"Ha, I bet you say that to all the boys."

Jared's hand froze mid-scratch on the smaller dog's ear. Cheeks flaming, Jared cast a strangely panicked look at the group before angling a glare at Chad. Jensen was surprised to see Chad wince a little at the look. Clearly, there was something in the exchange that Jensen couldn't read. Jared cleared his throat, then said quietly, "Watch your mouth. There's a lady present."

Mike made a show of wildly looking around the place. "Really? Where?" Becca and Tom simultaneously smacked him on the back of his head.

Jared still had a hold of the larger dog, keeping his rambunctious energy in check, but the smaller one slipped free and headed straight for Jensen. A cold wet nose sniffed curiously at the back of his hand just as Jared called out, "Sadie! Behave!" And maybe Jensen missed the dog he'd had as a boy, because he didn't think twice before he knelt and rubbed gently behind each ear, getting licked on his face for his trouble. "Huh," Jared said, sounding a little dumbfounded. "She's never—She usually shies from strangers."

Jensen gave Sadie's ear another scratch. He could sympathize.

"They're beautiful dogs," Becca said, reaching over to pat the top of Sadie's head. "Where did you get them?"

"Oh, Jay didn't _buy_ them," Chad answered, completely ignoring the fact that the question wasn't directed at him. "He can barely make the payments on this place, you think he'd go off and spend good money on a couple of mutts like these? Ow, fucker! What?"

Chad glared and rubbed the spot on his arm that Jared had punched. Jared turned back to the group, shrugging one shoulder apologetically. "They just showed up here one day and I, uh…I decided to let them stick around."

Jensen noticed Chad's eyes on him. "He's got a thing for strays," Chad said before making his way towards the house.

Jared glared daggers at Chad's back, once again blushing. After a moment's thought, he very deliberately released the hand that was holding on to Harley's collar. The dog gave a happy bark of warning and immediately bounded across the yard after Chad. Spotting the dog closing in, Chad ran the last few yards to the house in a mad scramble.

Jared pursed his lips against the smile threatening to break through. The grin turned sheepish as he said, "Sorry, Chad's just…He's really not…Y'know, nevermind. There's just no excuse for Chad."

Tom snorted and slapped Mike heartily on the back. "Believe it or not, I think I know exactly what you mean."

"Hey!" Mike protested. "I'm a joy to be around."

Jared showed them all into the house, letting them drop off their meager belongings in each of their rooms. Jensen was surprised to note that Jared gave up the master bedroom for Becca, saying that in her state she needed a real bed more than Jared did. The rest of them each got cots, mostly because as far as Jensen could tell, there wasn't much available by way of actual furniture. The house was dilapidated but livable. There were several rooms, but most of them had been closed up because Jared hadn't had the time or money to fix them up. Jensen, Tom, and Mike got one large room, while Jared and Chad got the smaller one next door. There was no electricity or running water, but they had candles and basins in their rooms and could get water from the pump outside. There was a washroom with a bathtub, but they would have to haul the water in from outside if they wanted to use it. Jared left them to get settled in and told them to meet him in the fields when they were ready.

The sun was beginning to dip in the afternoon sky by the time they began to work in the fields. Since Jared refused to let Becca overexert herself in the fields, she had stayed behind in the house, learning Jared's kitchen and cooking dinner. Chad had volunteered to 'keep her company,' which Jensen translated to mean sneaking food while he flirted with the only woman on the premises. Tom had raised a questioning eyebrow, but Becca just shot him a look that clearly said, _I can take care of myself,_ before Mike dragged him away.

Jared started them off by showing them how to prune the vines. The pruning shears he handed Jensen were a little dull and probably older than anything else in the house, including the dirt it was built on, but they did the job. Jared taught them where to cut the new shoots so that the new shoots clung to the stakes, and before long they were moving through the rows two at a time. Jared and Jensen took one side while Tom and Mike worked a little ways off. Jensen decided Mike clearly hadn't paid attention to their little lesson, and he smiled a bit as he listened to Tom patiently explain that Mike couldn't just run through the rows and wildly hack away. Jensen got lost in the sound of their good-natured bickering, feeling the sun on his face and smelling the fresh green scent of the cut vines. His mind drifted almost happily at the thought of spending the next few weeks out here, getting paid for actual work and sleeping with a roof over his head. He lost his focus for a moment and his hand slipped on the vine, making the shears slice into the knuckles of his left hand.

Jensen cursed and dropped the shears, examining the deep gash in his hand. The sickeningly familiar scent of blood hit him like a surprise punch to his gut. Even after all these months trying to forget, the sight of thick red droplets running between his knuckles and dripping from his fingertips was exactly the same as he remembered from every night he'd spent in the boxing ring, and then later, in that alley…

He hastily wiped away the blood and stuck the knuckle in his mouth, more to hide the sight than soothe the sting. The coppery-sweet taste assaulted his tongue, reminding him of every time he'd ever gotten his lip split open on the receiving end of a leather glove, and he tried to shove the memories away. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a soft voice said, "Don't suck on it. That'll just make it worse."

Jared reached up to pull Jensen's hand from his mouth. He took a quick look at the injury before producing a mostly-clean handkerchief from his pocket. He pressed it to Jensen's knuckles with surprising gentleness, and Jensen's fingers tingled a little at the touch. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really," Jensen said distractedly. Jared's fingers were warm and rough on his palm. "Broke my hand once. This is nothin'."

"Yeah?" Jared said, intrigued eyes flicking up from where he gently dabbed at the cut. "How'd you manage to do that?"

Jensen had to bite back a curse, because he hadn't meant to let that slip. Jared had his head cocked to one side like a curious puppy, and before Jensen realized it more words were spilling from his mouth. "Shattered some guy's jaw a few years back. Couldn't use my hand for weeks. Still acts up on me sometimes."

Jared raised an eyebrow. "Really? Seemed to be working fine when I was watching you earlier. You're good with your hands." A hint of another blush crept to Jared's cheeks and he turned his attention back to Jensen's cut. He seemed to search for a change of topic. "So, you, uh…You get into a lot of fights back in Texas?" A flash of suspicion must have shown in Jensen's face, because the next thing Jared said was, "I recognized the accent. S'where I'm from, too." Jensen kept his mouth firmly clamped shut, afraid of what might spill out if he opened it again. Jared had a way about him, and Jensen had no doubt that all Jared had to do was flash that dimpled smile and even Al Capone would drop his panties. But more than that, Jared was actually _nice_, in a way that Jensen hadn't seen since he left Texas—in a way he'd begun to doubt even existed anymore. He had no doubt that under different circumstances he would really like Jared, could see them easily becoming friends, and that was a dangerous place to be—not for Jensen, but for Jared. Plus, something about the way Jared was still cradling Jensen's hand combined with the earnest curiosity in his eyes made Jensen's skin heat up and his chest feel tight.

"So, which town?" Jared continued, snapping Jensen out of his reverie. "Must be somewhere big, if you're such a city boy. Houston? Dallas?"

Rationally, Jensen knew Jared was just trying to make conversation, but the paranoid corner of his mind reminded him that he was still on the run. He may be halfway across the country, but he was terrified of letting the wrong thing slip. Maybe even more terrifying was how badly Jensen _wanted_ to answer Jared's questions, to allow himself the illusion of feeling safe for once. The tight feeling in Jensen's chest edged towards panic, and he took a hasty step back. He snatched his hand from Jared's grasp and watched Jared's friendly smile fall, a flicker of confusion and something that looked like hurt passing across his features.

"It's starting to sting a little," Jensen mumbled, indicating the cut on his hand. "I should probably go clean it out." He escaped to the water pump by the house, running the ice cold water over his hand and splashing a little on his face. He wrapped Jared's handkerchief over his knuckles in a makeshift bandage, then took a few deep breaths, waiting for his heartbeat to slow before he headed back into the rows.

When Jensen returned and stooped to pick up his dropped shears, Jared only offered him a tight lipped smile, making no more attempts at conversation. Jensen could feel Jared's eyes on him sometimes, quick darting looks, but Jensen focused all his attention on his work. The air hung heavy and thick between them, the silence only broken by the distant sounds of Tom trying to keep Mike from destroying the vines.

Jensen's hand still tingled a little where Jared had been holding it, but Jensen figured it was just the cut acting up.

* * *

  
Jared practically attacked his plate of mashed potatoes. He could eat enough to satisfy two grown men on any given day, and he ate even more when he'd been working. Becca hadn't done anything fancy with the few basic necessities Jared kept stocked in his kitchen, but food always tasted better after coming in from the fields. Glancing around the table, Jared noticed that Jensen was the only one not stuffing himself. He was just pushing food around with his fork. Jared frowned a little. Jensen had spent all day working, the same as everyone else. So why wasn't he eating?

"Hey," Jared said quietly, passing Jensen the rolls. "Dig in. You've earned it." As soon as Jensen' eyes flicked up, Jared shoveled a massive spoonful of mashed potatoes in his mouth. "See? S'good," he said, spitting bits of potato onto his plate. Jensen raised an appalled eyebrow as Jared flashed a goofy grin, showing potato-covered teeth. Still, Jared noticed the smile Jensen hid behind his own healthy bite of potatoes.

Dinner was pretty lively, considering almost everyone had to have been tired from working outside.  
Jared had cracked open a bottle of wine to celebrate their first night on the vineyard. There was talking and laughing over shared stories and good-natured ribbing, and Jared for once sat back and enjoyed the show. Jensen kept quiet, but he seemed to be enjoying himself. His earlier tension out in the fields has vanished as mysteriously as it had appeared. Jared tried not to take Jensen's behavior personally, but he couldn't help noticing that Jensen had refused to look at him all night. Jared kept darting glances Jensen's way, not even really meaning to. There was just something about Jensen that made Jared's eyes gravitate towards him, hoping to catch some clue that could help him understand this man he barely knew. Jensen's reticent attitude hadn't quite lifted, but the anxious line of his shoulders had softened as the night wore on. More often than not, when Jared happened to steal a glance, Jensen was smiling wide enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes. Chad would always slant Jared a sideways look when he caught Jared staring.

About halfway through the evening, Tom finished a horribly embarrassing story about the prank he and the rest of the male section of the church choir pulled one Easter Sunday, singing the Hallelujah Chorus while entirely naked under their robes, and once everyone had calmed their laughter, Jared took the opportunity to throw out an idea he'd been toying with all night. "You know, I usually head into town on Sundays for supplies. I figure we can all head out there this weekend. It'll be nice to have some company besides Chad—" Chad's squawk of protest went largely ignored as Jared continued, "—and you and Becca could check out the local church, if you want. Though I'm pretty sure the minister would have a stroke if you tried anything like that," he added with a smile. Glancing at Becca's protruding stomach, he added, "And there's a doctor in town, so you could pay him a visit."

Tom and Becca exchanged a glance, and everyone's good mood seemed to falter. Jared reran the conversation in his head, trying to figure out what he could have said that would garner that kind of reaction. Then Tom finally turned to Jared and said hesitantly, "That's—that's a nice idea, but I don't think we could really afford it."

Jared did a mental cringe. Yeah, he probably should have thought about that. "Hey, it's no problem. I fixed Doc Manners' fence last summer, so he owes me a favor." Okay, so maybe that wasn't technically true. The Doc had already paid him for the fence job, but he and the Doc had become good friends over the past few years. Maybe Jared could do a little fast talking when they went into town.

"Jared," Becca said, "That's really—but I don't think we could accept." Despite her words, Jared noticed her hand drifted protectively to her belly.

"Hey, I promise, it's not a big deal," Jared said intently. "I want to make sure the kid's healthy just as much as you do."

Becca held his gaze long enough for him to notice her eyes go glassy with unshed tears, and she reached out to clasp her brother's hand with white knuckles. "Thank you," she said quietly, and Jared had to look away. He didn't mean for it to be such a huge gesture, and he felt a little silly and small in the face of her obvious gratitude.

Jared's eyes naturally drifted to Jensen, but this time Jared nearly recoiled from the suspicious glare Jensen was shooting his way. His green eyes were sharp and piercing, and there was a funny twist to his lips. Jared gaped, and he had just opened his mouth to speak when Jensen turned away and whatever Jared had been planning to say died in his throat. Jensen went back to ignoring him, and Jared went back to wondering what the hell he'd done to piss Jensen off this time.

Dinner progressed much as it had before, though now the raucous laughter of before was a little more subdued. Afterwards, Jensen excused himself to get some fresh air while the rest of the group hung around in the kitchen. Tom washed the dishes while Becca dried and politely fended off Chad's advances. Mike just hung back, making wisecracks and occasionally sharing an amused, incredulous look with Tom, because nobody in their right mind would try to hit on a pregnant broad with her brother standing right there? Jared offered his help with the clean up, but when Becca insisted they could handle it, Jared took the last of his wine and headed out into the cool night air.

He hung back in the doorway when he caught sight of Jensen on the front steps, Sadie's head in his lap, idly scratching behind one of her ears. Jared had almost forgotten Jensen was out here, and he didn't want to intrude. Jensen looked so peaceful, gazing out over the fields, his face tilted up so the moonlight caught and hung on his cheekbones. Jared had noticed that Jensen was attractive before, but this was different somehow. Jensen's face had lost its guarded look, making his expression seem relaxed and open, almost content. Jared couldn't tear his eyes away. When Jensen uttered a soft sigh and closed his eyes, Jared was entranced by the way the silver moonlight beaded like water on the tips of Jensen's eyelashes.

Before Jared knew what he was doing, he found his feet carrying him forward. The sound of dishes clinking and soft laughter faded as he padded quietly up to Jensen and said, "I think she likes you."

Jensen's eyes snapped open and his shoulders stiffened. Jared's heart pinched a little as he watched the walls instantly come back up. Jared eased himself onto the step next to Jensen, offering what he hoped was a disarming smile as he continued, "Always knew Sadie was the smart one. Then again, that's not saying much. Harley's so dumb he'd eat rocks."

One corner of Jensen's mouth turned up in reluctant amusement before he went back to petting the nearly unconscious dog in his lap. When Jensen didn't reply, Jared occupied his attention by swirling his wine glass slowly in his hands, watching the moonlight reflect off the surface. "You don't like me very much, do you?"

Jared caught Jensen's wince out of the corner of his eye. "It's not that. I just…" Jensen's mouth twisted into a thoughtful frown. "You're too nice," he finally said.

Jared's eyebrows rose. "I'm _too_ nice?"

Jensen's frown deepened. "I can't figure out your angle."

"You think I have an angle?"

"Nobody's that nice," Jensen continued quietly, as if Jared hadn't even spoken. "At least not without expecting something out of it later. I just don't know what you want, yet."

Jared was suddenly, irrationally angry. He spoke in a hurt, defensive tone as he said, "Look, Jensen, it wasn't that long ago that I was exactly where you are now. I'm still barely scraping by, but I'm not selfish enough that I don't offer to help when I can."

Jensen rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and mumbled, "I didn't mean…Nevermind. Just forget I said anything." It was the sad resignation in his voice more than the skeptical words that cut through Jared's anger.

Furrowing his brow, Jared stared hard at Jensen, who still refused to meet his eyes. Jared softened his tone and said earnestly, "Not everyone has an angle, Jensen."

Jensen turned his face up to gaze thoughtfully at the stars, but his mind was obviously a million miles away. Jared noticed that the moonlight illuminated the gold flecks in Jensen's impossibly green eyes. "Sure they do," Jensen said at length, his tone almost pitying. "It's just the ones that say they don't that you've gotta watch out for."

Jensen's words were like a kick to the chest. Jared clenched his jaw for a moment before downing the last of his wine. He sullenly stood and made his escape back towards the house. He paused at the door, then turned back. "Jensen," he called softly. Jensen turned, and Jared asked, "What's _your_ angle?"

Their gazes locked for a heavy moment, and then Jensen turned away to stare at his hands. "I'll let you know when I figure it out," he said, and Jared stalked back into the house.

Jared entered his temporary room to find Chad passed out on a cot, a half-empty bottle of Jared's wine in his hand. Jared took the bottle and recorked it, making a mental note to check Chad's usual hiding places to see if he'd stashed any more bottles around the house in hopes of Jared not realizing they were gone. He set the bottle on the nightstand and flopped down onto his own cot, staring up at the ceiling.

It shouldn't bother him this much that Jensen didn't trust him. He and Jensen didn't need to be friends for Jensen to work for him. But Jared's mind kept coming back to that contented, open look on Jensen's face, and how badly he wanted to see it again, aware that this time Jared had put it there. He didn't know what it was about Jensen that shook something loose in his chest, but he knew that Jensen was hiding behind that cool, aloof exterior, and he knew that more than anything he wanted to break through that wall behind Jensen's eyes. Jared wouldn't be able to rest until he'd put the puzzle pieces together. It was the last thing he needed right now, to fall for some probably-straight drifter who would be out of Jared's life forever in about a month's time. He tried to dismiss the feelings simmering in his chest, but as his eyes slipped shut in sleep and the image of Jensen's smiling face floated through in his mind, Jared figured he was pretty much doomed.

[Part 2](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/14305.html#cutid1)


	2. You Go To My Head (P2)

_**You Go To My Head (P2)**_

  
  
It wasn't like Jensen made a conscious effort to avoid Jared for the next few days. It just seemed that the rows at the far end of the vineyard needed the most work, and he took it upon himself to tend to those vines. Jensen found himself enjoying the solitude of the fields. He worked hard, but he also allowed himself to explore the land. There was one hilltop he'd found that offered a picturesque view of the vineyard, rows of luminescent green that stretched to the sapphire blue horizon. Jensen could sit up there for hours if he let himself, breathing in the scent of the outdoors and watching as the vines seemed to glow in the sunlight and shimmer in the distant ocean breeze. He enjoyed the peace he found there, something he realized had been missing from his life for far too long.

But Jensen should have known his peace wouldn't last. Jared showed up out of nowhere on the fourth day of Jensen's self-imposed seclusion, offering a bright 'aw-shucks' smile from under that beat up straw cowboy hat he always wore. Jensen had left his newsboy cap in his room after that first day, and he noticed more freckles sprouting across the bridge of his nose with each passing day in the sun.

"Thought you might like some company," Jared said, and Jensen grunted out something that maybe sounded like, "Yeah, sure." They worked in relative silence for a few more hours, broken only by the sound of rustling leaves and Jared popping a grape into his mouth every so often with a smack of his lips. The silence wasn't tense or uncomfortable, not like it could be, and Jensen was glad Jared was no longer trying to make casual conversation. Still, it unnerved Jensen a little to see Jared so quiet. He wasn't used to this side of Jared's personality. He'd gotten used to dinners spent with Jared smiling wide as the sky and talking a mile a minute, taking up so much space that sometimes Jensen couldn't breathe just from looking at him. Instead, he preferred to focus on Chad and Mike's competition for the title of Most Obnoxious Person At The Table. But now, Jared seemed content to simply soak up the sunlight and Jensen's quiet presence. It made Jensen want to say something, just to break up whatever he could feel gathering in his chest.

"You keep stuffing your face, and you're not gonna have any grapes left to harvest."

In the wake of their long silence, the words hung in the air like an echo. He could feel Jared's curious stare burning into the back of his neck, and he swiped a hand over the spot as if he could brush away the feeling of Jared's eyes on him as easily as he could the beads of sweat that had collected on his skin. Against his better judgment, Jensen turned to meet Jared's smiling face, teasing and affectionate and so damn easy, and not for the first time Jensen wondered why Jared made him so tense. "I like to think of it as quality control," Jared said, popping another grape into his mouth and cocking his head like he was trying to figure something out. "How come you've never tried any? Mike and Tom think I don't notice, but I see them helping themselves all day long. But I've never seen you eat any. You don't like grapes?"

"No, I—I mean yes, I just—" Jensen sighed, turning back to his work. "I don't take what I haven't earned," he finished gruffly, hating how the idea made him feel ridiculous and old fashioned. It wasn't that Jensen was too proud to take hand outs, he just felt like he'd been getting nothing _but_ hand outs for the last two years. He figured he'd used up his lifetime quota and then some. "And no offense," Jensen added, staring at the tiny clutch of grapes on the vine, "but they're kinda puny."

Jared's warm laugh echoed through the rows. "And all this time I had you pegged as the kinda guy who'd say size doesn't matter." Jensen rolled his eyes, but he couldn't quite stop the small smile tugging at his lips or the blush creeping into his cheeks. Jared dialed his smile back a few watts and then came to stand by Jensen, grabbing a few grapes from the clutch Jensen had been looking at earlier. "Before you start giving my grapes an inferiority complex, I want to show you something. They're actually _supposed_ to be small," he said, digging one thumbnail into a grape and splitting it open. He crushed the grape in his palm, separated the juicy inside from the outside skin. Jensen was surprised to note that although the outside of the grape was a bluish violet, the inside was mostly clear. He watched a rivulet of juice run down the crease of Jared's palm.

"Everybody thinks that once the grapes are ripe, we just crush them and pour the juice in barrels and after a few years, voila! We have wine! But it's actually a little more complicated. See, the grape skins are just as important as the juice. When we mix them with the juice, they give the wine that rich, dark red color. So to have the right balance between the amount of juice and the amount of skins, the grapes need to be smaller." He took Jensen's hand and pushed a single pristine grape into his palm. "Try it," he said.

Jensen popped the grape into his mouth, curling his lip just a little when the juice burst onto his tongue. It wasn't bad, it just wasn't what he'd been expecting. "It's not very sweet," he said.

"Wine grapes never are. You don't want too much sugar in your wine," Jared answered. "That's why I don't irrigate, or fertilize, or any of the other things you'd normally do with most crops. My grapes are a lot like people," he said, affectionately brushing his fingers through the leaves. "The vines have to suffer a little. It gives them tough, thick skins, and they never get too sweet."

Jensen ducked his head at that, scrubbing a thoughtful hand through his hair. _I think I know how they feel,_ he thought. He didn't realize he'd said it aloud until he looked up and saw Jared gazing at him with an expression somewhere between sympathetic and smug.

"Yeah, I kinda figured you did," Jared said.

Jensen chastised himself for once again accidentally revealing too much. Jared just threw him off balance, like a steady, gentle prodding that kept up until Jensen suddenly realized he was listing to one side, ready to topple over. He got the same dizzying sensation as he watched Jared shove the last few grapes into his mouth and lick the sticky juice from his fingers. Jensen didn't know why he was staring or why his heart suddenly started kicking against his ribs, and Jared seemed just as surprised, pausing to stare at Jensen with the tip of his ring finger in his mouth. Jared hesitated a second, then reached out and grabbed a few more grapes and held them out to Jensen, palm up. "Want some?" he asked, smiling in a way that was far too playful to be simply offering Jensen grapes. Jensen's mouth hung open for several long seconds, unsure what exactly Jared meant or what he should say, and then the next thing he knew Jared was smearing grape guts along the side of Jensen's face and down his back before darting away with a victorious whoop of laughter.

"Auck!" Jensen said, hiding a chagrinned smile and swiping futilely at the places where his skin was already starting to get tacky. "Now I'm gonna be sticky all day!"

Jared's laughter just grew louder before he called, "Fine, let's get you cleaned up, Princess. It's almost chow time, anyway." He turned to go, and Jensen had the urge to grab his own handful of grapes and smash them in Jared's hair. He refrained, but just barely.

Once Jared was assured there'd be no retribution, he allowed Jensen to catch up, and they walked back to the house together. There was no easy chatter as they walked, but Jensen still couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted, like he was approaching some invisible line that he'd never be able to tell he'd crossed until it was miles behind him.

It reminded him vaguely of his last night in Chicago, of doing something he'd never be able to undo. Only this time Jensen had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn't be able to run away from this.

* * *

The next day, Jared had Jensen working with him in the south field, setting up stakes for the new crop of vines that Jared wanted to plant there. It probably would have made more sense for Jared to pull either Mike or Tom, since they both had at least some farming experience and could set a fencepost, but the truth was Jared wanted an excuse to spend time with Jensen. Jared had actually missed Jensen during those few days that Jensen had gone off by himself, and he was willing to admit that maybe his hopeless crush wasn't going to just vanish anytime soon. Then he'd caught Jensen staring at his mouth yesterday, and his insides had practically exploded with joy. He suddenly suspected that Jensen wasn't as straight as he'd assumed, and that meant Jared's hopeless crush just got a whole lot less hopeless.

Hence, Jared's current plan was to drag Jensen out to the south field. Setting stakes would involve a lot more cooperation than pruning the vines, and maybe he could get Jensen to actually talk. Currently, however, his plan seemed to be backfiring. One thing Jared hadn't taken into account was the heat of the California sun beating down on them without the protective shade offered by the vines. The sweltering midsummer heat meant Jensen had shed his shirt early in the day, and Jared had spent every moment afterwards too wrapped up in staring to worry about any type of conversation. Jensen's suspenders hung loose around his thighs, meaning the waistband of his pants slid down several inches to reveal lean, chiseled hip bones. Jensen's skin was so pale it was nearly blinding in the bright sun, and there was a light smattering of freckles over his broad shoulders. Jared knew Jensen was probably going to be the color of a tomato in a few hours, but he couldn't bring himself to utter any kind of warning when it meant putting an end to watching the mesmerizing display of muscle under skin. Sweat poured down Jensen's spine and dripped from his chin as he swing the axe to chop the stakes, and Jared couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to feel those muscles shift under his fingertips, to taste the salt and sweat on Jensen's skin. And _god,_ if he couldn't get his thoughts under control he wouldn't be able to hide his reaction, and it was going to become extremely awkward for everyone in about three seconds.

Jared turned his attention back to tying the wire around the newest stake. He was glad he had thus far been able to hide his blatant ogling beneath the brim of his hat. Jared finished securing the row, then hazarded another glance back at Jensen. What he saw literally took his breath away.

They had each brought small canteens with them to combat the heat. Jensen had his head thrown back, water pouring from the canteen over his face and the back of his neck. Rivulets of water spilled down the column of Jensen's throat, sloshing over his collarbones and streaming down his chest and stomach. A few straggling droplets clung to Jensen's skin in a way that Jared envied.

Jensen scrubbed a hand over his face to wipe away the excess water, and then glanced over Jared's way. Jared didn't look away in time. In fact, to his own shock, he didn't look away at all. He filtered the heat from his gaze, turning it into nothing but a casual perusal that maybe lingered a bit too long, gauging Jensen's reaction. He watched Jensen's features flick rapidly through confusion, shock, and finally a small, nervous smile. It wasn't quite the invitation Jared had been hoping for, but at least Jensen hadn't flinched or turned away in disgust. In fact, the bewildered look on Jensen's face was pretty entertaining. Jared let a little of his inner amusement show through with a teasing grin and said, "Your skin's starting to burn," as if that had been the reason behind Jared's head to toe inspection from a moment before. Standing, Jared walked over and put his own straw cowboy hat on Jensen's head. "Here. That'll at least protect that pretty face of yours from the sun."

Jensen snorted and rolled his eyes before getting back to work, but Jared noticed Jensen made no move to take off the hat. It looked good on him—damn good—and Jared got a quiet thrill from watching Jensen wear something of his. It almost made up for the fact that a few minutes later, Jensen took Jared's warning to heart and shrugged into a white cotton t-shirt to protect his fair skin. Jared let him keep the hat for the rest of the day, no longer feeling the need to hide when Jensen caught him staring.

It was about halfway through the day that Jared started to notice a stiffness about Jensen's movements, and he called for a break. They headed back to the house, Jared saying that after lunch he'd take over the chopping duties and show Jensen how to tie the stakes. When they reached the house they found it quiet and almost empty. Becca was in bed reading one of Jared's books from his tiny collection, staying off her feet and resting. Everyone else was out in the fields, so Jared and Jensen ate their sandwiches in the cool air of the kitchen. Jared noticed Jensen's stiffness had yet to dissipate, and Jensen wouldn't relax against the back of the chair. Jared watched him closely, and Jensen caught his look. "What?" Jensen asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

Jared narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You got sunburned, didn't you?"

Jensen looked away and shrugged. "Just a little."

Jared didn't bother to call bullshit. He stood and rounded to stand behind Jensen. Ignoring Jensen's bemused protests, Jared gingerly began lifting the hem of Jensen's shirt up his back, exposing the lobster red skin underneath. "Holy shit, Jen," Jared breathed, suddenly feeling very guilty for not warning Jensen about the sun earlier than he did. He pressed his hand lightly between Jensen's shoulder blades, and it felt like he was touching the hot casing of a furnace. Jensen hissed at the touch and Jared quickly pulled back, leaving the white ghost imprint of his hand outlined in red. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Didn't think it was that big a deal," Jensen grumbled, and Jared huffed in frustration.

"Take your shirt off," he commanded.

"What? Right now?"

"Yes, now. Take your shirt off, Jen."

Jensen grudgingly complied, muttering something under his breath that may or may not have contained the phrase "mother hen." Jared fished around in the cabinets until he found a small, clean towel, a bottle of vinegar, and a potato. He made Jensen turn his chair around so he straddled the chair backwards, and Jared took up a position behind Jensen's exposed back. "This might sting a little," Jared said, pouring a healthy amount of vinegar onto the towel. After this the cloth would probably smell like vinegar for as long as Jared owned it, but he was okay with that. Everything he owned had that slightly used, well-lived in feeling, but he kind of liked it that way. It meant there was history there.

Dabbing the cloth to Jensen's shoulders, he heard Jensen suck in a sharp breath at the pressure to his tender skin. A second later, Jensen's muffled cough told Jared that Jensen had caught a strong enough whiff of the vinegar to taste the acid in the back of his throat. "Ugh. What the hell, Jay? I don't need to bathe in the stuff."

"Pretty nasty, isn't it?" Jared grinned. "My mom used to do this for me when I got burned as a kid. I always hated it."

Bowing his forehead to rest on the back of the chair, Jensen mumbled, "I knew it. Mother hen."

"Watch it," Jared warned. "I have an awfully lot of bright red skin here just begging to be pinched if you step out of line. You're at my mercy," he finished gleefully.

"I take it back. You're not a mother hen, you're a sadist."

"Damn straight," Jared chuckled. As if to prove Jensen's point, Jared set the potato and a knife in front of Jensen's face. "Make yourself useful and slice that up."

"Isn't it a little early to be worrying about dinner?"

"The starch will help cool your skin down," Jared explained.

"First vinegar, now potatoes. I'll be lucky if Harley doesn't get one whiff and take a bite out of my ass."

"Shut up and slice," Jared laughed. Jensen did as instructed, and Jared continued to dab vinegar over Jensen's skin. He settled into the easy camaraderie that had sprung up between them once Jensen let his guard down a little. It felt like a breakthrough, and Jared couldn't help but hope that maybe this meant Jensen was starting to let go of whatever had been holding him back. Maybe now he could start to trust a little.

Once Jensen had finished slicing the potato and he reeked thoroughly of vinegar, Jared guided him to his cot and instructed him to lie down, face first on the thin mattress. Jensen put up a token protest about having to wash the smell out of the sheets, but he quickly collapsed with an audible sigh. Jared perched next to his hip on the edge of the cot and watched him relax, amazed that he could visibly see the tension melt from each of Jensen's muscles as he settled into the bed. Jensen must have been more exhausted than he'd let on.

Jensen flinched a little when Jared laid the first potato slice between his shoulder blades. "Easy," Jared soothed, continuing to cover Jensen's back as gently as he could. Jared was careful never to let his work-roughened fingers touch Jensen's pained back, but he swore he could feel the warmth of Jensen's over-heated skin through the thin slices of potato. Jared knew from experience that it was already cooling Jensen down, and it was confirmed when Jensen let out a soft, pleased sigh into his pillow. That sound sparked a slow burn in Jared's belly, and his fingers fumbled a little. Now wasn't the time to wonder if Jensen would make noises like that in bed, if he would moan and writhe if Jared curled up next to him on the cot, wrapped one hand around his cock and brought him off slow.

Trying not to give in to the urge to let his hands linger over Jensen's skin, Jared hastily laid the last few slices over Jensen's lower back. He cleared his throat and stood. "You should stay here for the rest of the day and rest. The south field can wait."

"Won't get paid," Jensen grumbled into his pillow, already sounding halfway asleep.

Jared's heart broke a little, because a couple of bucks shouldn't mean so much to the guy. He wondered how long Jensen had been on the road, barely scraping by, before Jared had found him. "You'll still get your wages for the day, Jensen," he said, giving in to the urge to touch. He let his hand graze over the dip of Jensen's spine under the guise of rearranging a few potato slices. "Think of it this way, you'll be getting paid to lie around and sleep."

Almost immediately, Jared felt the sudden influx of tension in the air. Jensen's eyes snapped open to fix on Jared like pieces of broken green glass, hard and sharp. "What did you say?"

Jared ran that last sentence over again in his mind, trying to figure out what he could have said to get this kind of reaction out of Jensen. He gaped like a fish, but no words came out, afraid he might say something else to set Jensen off.

Jensen stood, pieces of potato falling to the sheets and the ground as he threw on his shirt. His voice was a low, angry growl as he spat, "I'm here to earn my way, Jared. I don't do the work, I shouldn't get paid. That's the deal. Nobody pays me to lie down. Not anymore. Not even you." And with that, he stalked from the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving a stunned Jared in his wake.

Jared watched from the window as Jensen stomped away in the direction of the south field, but he had no desire to follow. The last thing he wanted right now was to be alone with Jensen, either because he was afraid of what an angry Jensen might do or because he was afraid of what he himself might do. As the shock of Jensen's outburst wore off, Jared felt the hurt and anger begin to seep into its place, simmering in his chest. He was fed up with trying to figure Jensen out. It seemed like every time he reached a friendly hand out it got slapped away in disgust. He was done trying to draw Jensen out. Whatever cryptic past Jensen was trying to run from, it wasn't Jared's problem anymore.

If Mike and Tom wondered why Jared joined them after lunch instead of heading to the south field, they didn't ask. It probably had something to do with the way Jared radiated sullen, confused anger. They kept their distance, shooting him the occasional wary glance.

Jared headed in early when the tension in his shoulders became too painful to work. Becca was in the kitchen fixing dinner, and Chad was seated on the counter next to her. Chad had given up on hitting on her when it became apparent he wasn't going to get anywhere, and now he just hung around the kitchen sneaking food and bottles of cooking sherry and getting his hands smacked with a wooden spoon for his trouble. Jared was going to grab a quick snack before heading to bed, but Chad took one look at him and said, "Damn, Jay, what crawled up your ass and died?" Jared was saved from having to reply when Becca's spoon thwapped hard against Chad's ear. "Ow, bitch! Why is everyone always hitting me?"

"Because you're an ass," Becca said, rolling her eyes. Clearly, Becca had been forced to spend too much time with Chad, if words like "ass" were coming out of her prim and proper mouth. "Jared, you do look upset," she said, using the apron that barely covered her stomach to wipe flour from her hands. "What's wrong?"

Jared shrugged, buttering a slice of bread. "Nothing, really. Jensen and I had a fight. It's stupid." He tore off a corner and stuffed it in his mouth, not really tasting it.

"What happened?" Becca prompted.

Jared spoke around the piece of bread in his mouth. "Jensen got sunburned, then yelled at me when I tried to help." When he said it out loud, it really did sound like a stupid thing to be so upset about. Chad apparently agreed.

"So? Tell him to go drown his ass in an oatmeal bath. Seriously, you get wound up over some fucking girly shit. I guess Becca's not the only broad in this house. Ow!"

"Jared," Becca said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "I know you probably can't see it, but I remember what Jensen was like back at the road camp where you picked us up. He never smiled, not once. Now he's…" she trailed off, apparently at a loss for how to describe the changes she'd seen in Jensen. "Whatever you're doing, it's working. Just give it time."

Jared looked out the kitchen window for a long time, not really seeing the vines. Finally, he felt a small smile touch his lips. He wasn't a quitter, and now he had a reason not to give up. Not yet, anyway. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, unfolding it and laying it flat on the countertop. "Uh, Jay, what are you doing?" Chad asked, sounding worried for his friend's sanity.

Jared was already busy searching through the cupboard. He grinned wide when he found what he was looking for. "I'm taking your advice," Jared answered.

"What?" both Becca and Chad chorused. "Jared, even _I_ know better than to take my own advice," Chad warned. "Wait, what advice?"

Jared dumped a cup of oatmeal in the center of his handkerchief and tied up the corners, making a pouch. "I'm gonna tell him to go take a bath," he said, holding up the pouch like a prize.

He turned and headed up the stairs, tossing the pouch and a hastily scribbled note on Jensen's bed. He should be able to get the water hauled up to the tub before dinner. It would be cold, but Jensen would just have to make do. Jared's anger was far from appeased, but he had a stubborn streak wide enough to rival Jensen. He wasn't going to let Jensen push him away, not without a fight.

* * *

Jensen didn't come in from the fields until it was well after dark. He'd skipped dinner, but he didn't bother trying to find anything to eat, just went straight to his room. Mike and Tom were already asleep when he got there, so Jensen quietly collapsed on top of his cot. Belatedly, he realized there was a soft lump in the middle of the mattress, and he sat up to examine it. It was a cloth containing several cups of dry oatmeal, the corners tied in a knot to wrap it up. There was also a note, crumpled and squashed from where Jensen had laid on it. He unfolded the wrinkled paper to read the slanted print. "Put this in the bath and soak in it. –J. –PS, you're an asshole."

Jensen scowled and shoved everything hard under the bed, out of sight and out of mind. He tried to go to sleep, but his skin felt itchy and sore, and the warm air from the window wasn't doing much to cool it down. He only managed small fits of dozing between bouts of restless shifting, unable to find a position on the bed that didn't put pressure on some bit of aching skin. Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning Jensen started shivering with cold, even though his skin felt like it was on fire. In the end, it seemed his restlessness had been keeping the others awake, because Mike launched a pillow at his head and growled angrily, "If you don't go take your prissy oatmeal bath right the fuck now, I will personally haul your ass to the tub and drop you in it. Maybe then the rest of us can get some fucking shut eye." Tom groaned in agreement from under his pillow. Jensen hesitated on principal before he stood and threw Mike's pillow back, hard. Then he reached under his bed to find where the pouch of oatmeal had landed. As Jensen padded quietly towards the bathroom, he heard Mike call out, "And don't come back until you're as wrinkled as an old man's balls!"

Jensen sighed and pushed the bathroom door opened, surprised to find a candle lit and burned down halfway, overflowing wax dripping by the side of the full tub. Jared must have already hauled the water in for the bath. Jensen tried very hard not to feel guilty.

He dumped the oatmeal into the bath, swirling the water with his arm. The water was cool, almost cold, and the oats turned the water a milky white. He stripped and sunk one foot into the water, followed by the other. He gingerly lowered himself into the chilly water. It sent a small shiver through his body, but it felt good on his skin, and he settled back in the tub, sending the water sloshing just over the tops of his shoulders. He rested his head against the rim and methodically relaxed his muscles, trying to think about anything but Jared.

Jensen didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until his eyes opened to find dim grey early morning sunlight streaming in through the small window above his head. The candle by the tub had burned out long ago, now nothing but a puddle of hardened wax. His fingers were wrinkled and pruny, but the ache in Jensen's skin had lessened considerably.

Jensen sighed and got out of the tub. He rinsed off as best he could with the rag and basin of fresh water, trying not to think about all the places he'd be finding little bits of oatmeal for _days_. Despite his efforts last night, his mind had kept drifting back to Jared, and he'd come to a few realizations while soaking up the tangible evidence of Jared's kindness. He needed to find the guy and apologize.

Mike and Tom were still out cold when Jensen went back to the room. He got dressed as quietly as he could, then headed downstairs. Becca was already in the kitchen making breakfast. He'd learned she was an early riser by nature, like Jared. The two of them were usually up well before anyone else, already chatting up a storm by the time everyone else stumbled down to breakfast, groggy and grumpy. But today Jared wasn't there, and Jensen bypassed the kitchen in favor of stepping out on to the porch. Jared was sitting on the steps, watching Sadie and Harley wrestle over a bit of rope.

If Jensen had any intentions of quietly hanging back in the doorway unnoticed, they were quickly put to rest when Sadie and Harley's ears perked up at his presence. They ran towards him, nearly mowing Jared down in their rush, and Jensen found himself with a double armful of extremely affectionate canines. Once they'd gotten a chance to great him by licking his face thoroughly, they calmed somewhat, and Jensen snuck a glance at Jared. He was half turned towards Jensen, reluctantly watching him over his shoulder. Jensen walked over and sank onto the step next to Jared, unsure if the gesture would be welcome. The dogs followed him, sticking close. "I guess they really do like me."

"Naw," Jared said, not looking at him. "You just smell like food." Belatedly, Jensen realized he must still reek of oatmeal. Jared picked up a stick and threw it, the dogs chasing after it with playful barks. They watched the dogs wrestle for a minute before Jared spoke, his voice sounding more exhausted than anything Jensen had heard from him before. "What do you want, Jensen?"

Jensen looked at his hands for a minute. "I'm sorry," he said. "I overreacted. I just…I'm not used to all this." He waved his hand vaguely, a motion meant to encompass the vineyard, the kindness and trust that came so easily for Jared, and the way all of it made him feel. He hoped Jared understood. "I don't really know what to make of it."

Jared huffed out a humorless laugh. "If you ask me what my angle is again, I swear—"

"I don't need to ask, I know," Jensen said. That at least got Jared to look at him. "You do have an angle, whether you want to admit it or not. You help people out because you want them to like you, to be happy. But Jay, you need to realize that there are some things you just can't fix."

Jared stared at him a long time. "That's not really an angle, Jen."

This time it was Jensen's turn to look away. "Yeah, I know." They watched the dogs chase each other through the vines for several more minutes. Finally, Jensen broke the quiet stillness that had settled over them like morning dew. "So, what's Becca making for breakfast?"

The corner of Jared's mouth twitched upwards with the hint of a smile. "Oatmeal."

* * *

Chad left about a week later. Jared hadn't been expecting it, but he was only mildly surprised when Chad came to say goodbye, because the guy never stuck around for long. Still, Jared felt a little guilty, because he hadn't been spending much time with his best friend. "You're sure you don't want to stick around until after the harvest?" Jared asked.

"Naw, man. It's time I got outta your hair for a while. I'll be back when you restock," he said, holding up the bottle of wine Jared had given him for the road.

Jared smacked him half-heartedly over the head. "Asshole," he said, smiling. "Where are you headed?"

Chad looked away for a split second before saying, "Los Angeles."

Jared's eyebrows rose. "Wow. You think Sofia will take you back?"

Chad shrugged, but Jared could tell by the way Chad refused to meet his eyes that he was worried. "Dunno. But after watching you chase after Jensen like a lovesick bitch all summer, I figured, y'know, maybe it's worth it to at least try." Jared nodded once, then pulled Chad into a tight hug. Chad flailed weakly and mumbled into Jared's shoulder, "Man, get your gay ass off me. I'll catch your queer." Jared shoved him back with another swat to the head that was hard enough to have Chad rubbing his skull afterward. "Ow, fucker. You get really bitchy when you don't have your sugar fix, you know that?" Jared sighed the sigh of the much bereaved, but then Chad got a really strange, somber look on his face and said, "Look, about Jensen…I just—I know you probably think he's, like, god's gift to assfucking—"

"_Chad!_"

"—but I got a bad feeling about him, Jay. He's hiding something. I just…Be careful, okay? I know that pretty much means shit coming from me, because I'm me and you're you, but just…yeah. You know what I mean."

Jared smiled warmly, a little thrown by Chad's blatant show of concern. "I'll be careful," he said sincerely.

Chad stared at him a minute, then raised a suspicious eyebrow and said, "You're not gonna try and hug me again, are you?"

Jared laughed and pulled Chad into another bear hug just for the hell of it. Chad managed to squirm out of his hold and ducked away, calling out over his shoulder, "Alright, I'm gonna go before I grow a vagina from this fucking girly shit. See ya 'round, bitch."

Jared waved and watched him go, his figure fading into the distance until the road curved and he disappeared. That night, Jared lay awake in his newly empty room and thought about Chad's words, trying to figure out if a relationship with Jensen was worth the risk. It was true that Jared didn't really know what he was getting into with Jensen, didn't even know if Jensen would be willing to try a relationship with another man, but no matter which way Jared came at the argument raging inside his head, he always arrived at the same answer. It was worth a try.  


* * *

Some nights, Jensen couldn't sleep. He would just stare out the window by his bed, watching the leaves flicker silver and blue in the moonlight, and wondering what had changed. Jensen had been here for two weeks, which was probably a week longer than he should have stayed. This was the longest he'd ever been in one spot since he'd left Chicago, because sitting still for too long made him nervous. Usually, by the time he started looking over his shoulder a little too often, it was time to move on. But now, the urge to keep moving had fallen away, and Jensen felt the loss like a phantom limb.

One night, the siren song of the warm night air was too much, and Jensen found himself walking out amongst the vines, barefoot. The grass was cool and dry between his toes, and a light breeze whispered through the leaves. Jensen ran his fingers over them, feeling their slightly waxy surface.

He heard quiet footsteps behind him, and he realized he didn't even need to turn to know it was Jared. There was something about the low burn Jensen always got in his belly whenever Jared was around, something familiar about the feeling that Jensen couldn't quite identify. It was vaguely unsettling that Jensen couldn't pin down the way Jared made him feel, hot and cold all at once, bubbling just under the surface. Still, as confusing as the feeling was, it didn't feel _bad_, so as Jared approached Jensen let the sensation settle into his skin. Jensen wasn't the least bit surprised Jared had come to find him, and he wondered if maybe that was what had drawn him out here in the first place, somehow knowing he could summon Jared by his mere presence in the fields. Jared had a freakish attachment to his vines; it seemed right that he'd be able to sense when someone else was out there, too.

"You could have at least put some shoes on," Jared said by way of greeting.

"Nah," Jensen replied, moving his gaze to the stars overhead. He wiggled his toes in the dry grass and cool soil. "S'better like this."

"Okay, weirdo." Jensen didn't need to look to see Jared's affectionate smile. He felt a warm hand settle on his shoulder. "Seriously, what are you doing out here?"

_Waiting for you, apparently,_ Jensen wanted to say, but bit back the words just in time. "Couldn't sleep," he shrugged.

There was a brief pause, and then Jensen felt himself being pulled along by a sleepily smiling Jared. "C'mon," he said. "I wanna show you something."

Jared guided him to the door of the wine cellar. The heavy padlock on the wooden door was beginning to show signs of rust. Jared reached under his shirt collar and withdrew a key on a string. Somehow Jensen wasn't surprised that Jared wore the key to the wine cellar close to his heart. The padlock clicked open and Jared pulled the door back with only a slight creak of protest from the hinges. The steps led down to an area where moonlight couldn't follow, so Jared lit the small oil lantern hanging on the wall just inside the door. Jensen followed close behind Jared, trailing his fingers along the rough stone walls for balance. By the time they reached the dirt floor at the base of the stairs, the air temperature had dropped at least ten degrees. It wasn't cool enough to raise goosebumps on Jensen's skin, but his bare toes definitely felt the chill.

Jensen looked around the cellar in the dim yellow light cast by the lantern. The walls were covered with floor to ceiling shelves. Most of the shelves held small oak barrels, but one wall was devoted to the largest wine rack Jensen had ever seen in his life. There were also crates full of empty, green glass wine bottles piled in one corner, next to a piece of machinery that looked like some kind of hand-cranked press. Jensen just watched as Jared moved about the darkened cellar, checking several barrels with the practiced ease of someone whose mind was already thinking five steps ahead of his hands. This was obviously a place that Jared spent a lot of his time, but he kept it locked and hidden from everyone else, like this was something private and special. Jensen didn't know what to think about the easy way Jared had invited him into this part of his life.

Jared set the lantern down on a short wooden table that looked about a hundred years old, then picked up the clear glass tumbler that was setting upturned on top. He cleaned it out with a little water from a terra cotta jug, then walked to one of the oak barrels. He held the glass under the spigot and filled it with a small amount of dark red wine, then came to stand in front of Jensen, who was still poised at the bottom of the stairs like it was some sort of threshold he wasn't sure he wanted to cross. Jared held out the glass and Jensen took it curiously, his thumb just brushing the tips of Jared's fingers. "You asked me down here for a nightcap?" Jensen teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Not quite," Jared smirked. "Consider this something between furthering your wine education and my own personal experiment. Tell me what you smell."

Jensen raised both eyebrows this time, but he lifted the glass to his face and inhaled. The acrid, familiar scent of alcohol hit him hard, burning his nose a little. He pulled back, blinking. "It smells like alcohol," he said, not seeing the point. He'd smelled that same scent on the breath of a hundred different Chicago socialites.

Jared took a step closer and wrapped his own hand around the glass, opposite Jensen's, long fingers coming around so they tucked just under Jensen's. He swirled the wine a little in the glass and said, "That's what everyone smells the first time. Now think about the land and try again."

Jensen shot him a skeptical look but once again brought the glass up underneath his nose. "Close your eyes," Jared added as an afterthought, and Jensen did. The alcohol scent was still sharp, but Jensen ignored it and dug a little deeper. He thought about working in the fields and found he could instantly pick out a few other scents. He recognized the scent of moist earth after a summer rain, something green and bright like fresh cut vines, and a rich sweetness underneath it all, familiar and comforting. It smelled like the vineyard. It smelled like _safe,_ like _home._ "It smells like you."

Jensen's eyes snapped open in shock. He'd been so focused on categorizing every aroma he didn't realize where his own thoughts were taking him. Jared stared back at him with equally wide eyes for a full half second before he let out a surprised huff of laughter. "Uh, I mean—" Jensen stammered helplessly.

"No, no! That's good," Jared interrupted. "A great wine should take on the qualities of the place it was made. Maybe I've just been spending too much time in the fields." The casual tone did absolutely nothing to counter the bright, pleased smile spreading across his face.

Grinning despite his embarrassment, Jensen leaned in and took a theatrical sniff. "Hmm. You do smell kinda ripe, Sasquatch."

Jared landed a playful swat to Jensen's arm while he laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. He smiled wide, hazel-green eyes looking at Jensen through his mess of shaggy bangs. His expression was soft and so damn _open_, and suddenly that hazy feeling that he got around Jared, the one that had always hovered just under Jensen's skin, crystallized. It solidified in his bones, sharp and electrifying and beautiful. He felt an urge to lean forward that was so strong he had to reel backwards a few steps just to get out of its pull.

Jensen recognized that feeling now, clear as day and twice as bright. He'd felt it for Sarah Jackson, the girl who'd lived next door and gave him his first kiss when he was fourteen. He'd felt it for Janie Williams, the girlfriend he'd thought about marrying before he left her behind for Chicago. But what he felt for Jared had snuck up on him and blown all of those others out of the water.

Jensen stumbled back a few more steps, willing down the panic clutching at his chest. While he'd found guys objectively attractive before, he'd never _been_ attracted to one, never felt the overwhelming desire to pull one down and taste his lips, to see if they were as soft as they looked. Even worse, now that Jensen recognized this feeling for what it was, he couldn't ignore it. He should have been shoving his feelings away in disgust, but it had been so long since Jensen had allowed himself to feel anything, and when he glanced up and saw Jared looking at him with such confusion and concern, the knot tightened in Jensen's chest and he just…he couldn't bring himself to let go of that. He wanted Jared, even if he shouldn't. The knowledge settled like a lead weight in Jensen's stomach.

"Jen?" Jared reached one hand out to touch Jensen's shoulder, and Jensen flinched away as if he'd been burned. It was the only way to keep from leaning into the touch. "Jensen, what's wrong?" A worried wrinkle settled between Jared's brows.

Jensen knew he couldn't tell Jared the truth, so he downed the wine in his glass to give himself time to think up a convincing lie. That proved to be a mistake. All the scents Jensen had picked out earlier flooded his tongue, and he found himself wondering if he would be able to pick out those same tastes on Jared's lips. The glass slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground with a soft thud, the dirt floor cushioning its landing. He began backing away slowly, stuttering out half-formed sentences of explanation and not meeting Jared's eyes. "I should…It's late…Big day tomorrow, so…I'm just gonna…" Jensen turned on his heel and fled up the stairs, not looking back as he practically ran to his room. He scrambled into his cot and curled onto his side, facing the wall, sheets pulled up to his chin like he was back to being a scared little boy. He squeezed his eyes shut and didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

[Part 3](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/14403.html#cutid1)


	3. You Go To My Head (P3)

_ **You Go To My Head (P3)** _

  


The next morning Jared drove everyone into town. This was their second Sunday trip, and although from the outside it seemed just the same as last week's, there was an undercurrent of tension that Jared knew everyone noticed. Well, almost everyone. Becca alone seemed too focused on her own enthusiasm to notice much of anything else around her. Jared had never seen anyone so excited to go to church. Given the interrogation Becca had given him after last week's trip, he could guess why. She had fired off question after question about the new, young pastor at the church, acting like a teenager with a crush. She'd been disappointed when Jared hadn't been able to tell her much more than, "He seems nice," and, "He tries to get me to go to church every Sunday, but takes it okay when I say no." Tom had accompanied his sister to church last week, which Jared suspected was more so she'd have some protection from the wolves if she needed it, but Jared had been pleased to learn that everyone had been pretty welcoming. That wasn't quite the normal reception most people would have expected an unwed mother to get from a small town church, but Jared knew several of the people in town and they all seemed fairly laid back and accepting. In any case, Jared was glad to see her beaming face as she stepped into the passenger side of the truck, especially since she had completely lost any lingering nerves about her follow up check with Doc Manners.

The rest of the crew rode on the short pallet that made up the truck bed, seated on crates filled with Jared's wine. In addition to making his weekly supply run, Jared's other reason for heading to town each week was to drop off a few cases of wine at the local general store. The owner had agreed to sell it and even shipped out special orders for a small share of the profits. Last week, Jensen had helped Jared and Mike unload the wine at the store. This week, Jensen begged off, stuttering something about how he thought maybe he should go to church with Tom and Becca. Jared had just frowned and nodded, not even trying to figure that one out.

Whatever Jared had done to cause Jensen to act so jittery these last few days, Jared didn't have a clue how to fix it. Out of the corner of his eye, Jared had caught Jensen giving him long, wide-eyed stares that instantly flicked away when Jared looked up. He hardly ever met Jared's eyes anymore. When they spoke, Jensen would fidget nervously and look everywhere but at Jared. On the rare occasions that Jared had been able to catch Jensen's eye, he saw something there that made his heart pitch a swan dive into his stomach in hope, but the next second Jensen would look away and it would be gone. Still, Jared was never quite able to convince himself he'd only been imagining it.

Jared and Mike were left to unload the truck into the back room of Samantha's store. The bell above the door rang as Jared entered, and Samantha looked up with a small smile. "Just set 'em in the usual spot, honey," she called in greeting before turning back to the shelves. Samantha was a woman with a smoky voice and eyes older than her forty years. She'd called Jared "honey" since the moment she'd met him. He couldn't help but like her.

Jared was pleased to note that of the two crates they'd brought last week, only a few bottles still remained on the shelves. He and Mike hauled in the two new crates and Jared approached the counter with a smile. "Looks like it was a pretty good week," Jared said.

"Sure was," Samantha agreed, pulling out an envelope with Jared's name on it from under the cash register. Jared took it, happy to feel the thickness that meant a profitable week. "You might want to bring a few more cases with you next week, if you can manage. The owner of that fancy restaurant a few towns over bought a bottle a few days ago, said he'd heard good things about it and wanted to try it out. And someone in Oregon ordered a whole case! That wine of yours is beginning to build quite the reputation."

Jared smiled sheepishly, thumbing through the cash inside the envelope. "It's all Jeff's reputation," Jared replied, thinking back to when he'd first seen the vineyard in its golden years. "He made it so successful he was getting special orders from _France._ I'm just trying to get by." The thing was, Jared knew he'd never be able to restore the vineyard to the award-winning status it had enjoyed for years under Jeff's careful hand. Jared simply didn't have the patient, detailed focus that that kind of wine-making required. Jared would just be happy to make a decent wine that the average Joe wouldn't mind passing around the dinner table. Judging by the thickness of the envelope in his hands, he seemed to be making progress.

Despite the successful week of sales, once Jared had counted the money and divided out the amount for everyone's wages there still wasn't much left over to buy food and gas for the truck. He knew he would have to make it stretch, which meant none of the butterscotch candy Jared loved so much. Jared handed Mike his earnings with a smile and told him to get lost, which Mike promptly did, slapping Jared hard on the back before dashing out the door with a grin that said he was up to no good. Jared moved through the shelves, collecting the things he needed, but it wasn't long before he felt unfamiliar eyes on him. He looked up to find a guy standing near the beef jerky and peering at him curiously. The guy was short and a little stocky, wearing a cheap pinstripe suit and spats, and also a black fedora with a small red feather stuck in the band. Jared scowled back. The guy had "mafia errand boy" written all over him.

Jared did his best to ignore the guy as he finished shopping and brought his supplies to Samantha's register. She rang him up and put everything into a couple of bags, tossing in a handful of butterscotch candy. Jared opened his mouth to protest but she just held up a hand and said, "On the house, honey." Jared smiled his thanks.

He hefted his bags, one in each arm, and made his way towards the truck. He was halfway there when he heard a voice call out from behind him, "Hey, you're Jared, right? Jared Padalecki?"

Even if Jared hadn't heard the smarmy Chicago accent in the guy's voice, he would have known the voice belonged to the suit from Samantha's store. Turning, he stared the shorty down and said with a decided lack of interest, "Do I know you?"

The guy dropped his cigarette and ground it out under one brightly polished shoe. He grinned in a way that was obviously meant to be a mix of charming and threatening, but fell far short of both. "I believe we have a mutual acquaintance."

"Right," Jared replied, voice flat as he turned and continued towards his truck. "Tell your boss I'm still not interested."

"Y'know, with the kind of money he's offering, you could buy an entirely new vineyard. A bigger, better one," the guy continued casually.

"Then why doesn't your boss use that money to buy his _own_ vineyard and stop bothering me about mine?" Jared bit out.

"See, that don't really work for him. He wants _this_ one, and he don't usually take no for an answer."

Jared shoved his armful of supplies onto the truck bed. "Well this time he doesn't have a choice, because I'm not selling." He rounded to the driver's side and opened the door, hoping Shorty would take the hint and scram. Unfortunately, the guy kept talking. His words made Jared pause, standing in the open truck door.

"This sure is a nice little shop here," the guy said, as if he were commenting on the weather. "Sweet dame who runs the place, too. It's awfully nice of her to sell your stuff. Would be a shame if anything happened to it...Or her."

Jared slammed the door shut and stalked towards the guy before he even realized he'd made the motion. He loomed into the guy's space, drawing himself up to his full height and towering over Shorty's frame. He planted a fist against the brick wall next to the guy's head. Shorty flinched backwards, but he tried to cover it with a haughty grin. Jared lowered his voice to a hard growl and said, "I don't respond well to threats."

The guy's grin faltered a little, but he kept that same casual tone and said, "Who's making threats? We're just two fellas, having a chat."

"Jared?" Jensen's voice made Jared's head snap towards him, seeing the puzzled expression on his face. "What's going on?" He asked, glancing between Jared and the guy who was nearly pinned to the wall.

Jared glared at the guy as he said, "Nothing. Shorty here was just leaving."

The guy looked relieved at the interruption. He gave Jared a friendly pat on the chest and shoved him back slightly. "You're right. We should finish this conversation later."

"Not later. We're done," Jared said, turning his back on the guy and heading towards the truck. He heard Jensen following after him, feet crunching on the dirt and gravel as he hurried to catch up.

"Jared? Hey, what just happened here?" Jared kept walking until he felt Jensen's hand on his shoulder, warm and solid. As quickly as it had happened Jensen snatched his hand back, and Jared turned to see him lower it uneasily to his side, clenched in a fist. "Who was that guy?" he asked.

"Nobody. Just some guy sent here to try and scare me. Don't worry, it's nothing."

"Wait—Scare you? Jared, what the hell is going on?"

"Look, it's not a big deal," Jared said, heaving a breath. "The year I bought the vineyard, I beat some mafia 'businessman' to the punch. When he tried to buy it from me, I told him no. Turns out the guy took it as a personal insult, and he's been trying to pressure me into selling ever since." When Jared hazarded a glance at Jensen's face, he seemed to pale. "Hey, like I said, it's not a big deal. He's some big shot, stuck up wine aficionado. He just wanted the land for bragging rights, anyway. He'll get over it."

Jensen swallowed audibly. "Jared, you shouldn't screw around with these people. You could piss off the wrong person, and they mean business."

Jared glanced at him, rolling his eyes. "C'mon, Jensen. I've been dealing with this guy for years. You talk like you know something about these mobster types that I don't."

Jensen looked away, rubbing the back of his neck in that way Jared had learned meant he was either embarrassed or hiding something. "Naw. Just what I read in the papers." Jared pursed his lips in thought, but he didn't say anything.

* * *

That night, Jensen didn't sleep. His thoughts kept coming back to Chicago, and the man he thought he'd finally outrun. Jensen didn't think Vino Cascone could track him all the way to California, but that didn't rule out the possibility of running into him via sheer dumb luck. Jensen knew the man Jared was going up against could be any mafia boss in the country, but his gut was telling him it was Vino. He doubted there were very many other ruthless, wine-loving mobsters with a stubborn, prideful streak long enough to stretch from Chicago to California.

Jensen knew Vino, and he knew Vino wouldn't stand for that kind of defiance from Jared. Or any kind of defiance, period. There would be repercussions for Jared's refusal, and Jensen was best gone by the time they hit, but the idea of leaving while Jared was in danger gave Jensen a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The moon was high in the sky, but Jensen was still wide awake when he heard the noise through his open window. It was just a soft clank of metal against metal, but it had come from the direction of the wine cellar. Jared was the only person with a key, and unless Jared had figured out how to leave the house without disrupting any of the creaky floorboards then he was most likely still in bed.

Jensen tried to tell himself he was just overly jumpy after their encounter earlier today, but he was already halfway dressed when he heard the noise again, louder this time, followed by what might have been a muffled curse. Jensen quietly slipped his work boots on and crept from the house, towards the back door, managing to avoid all but the creakiest floorboard. He made his way around to the far side of the wine cellar, feeling his way along the rocky walls to guide him in the dark. He heard the noise again and quickly pressed his back up against the cold stone. This time he was sure he heard voices, and he hazarded a peak around the corner to glance two dark forms huddled around the entrance to the wine cellar. Moonlight glinted off the outline of a crowbar.

"Dammit, Joe!" the shorter one hissed, and Jensen immediately recognized the voice of the man he'd seen with Jared earlier today. "Are you tryin' ta wake the whole damn house?"

"Lighten up, Tony," the taller one replied gruffly. Even in the dark Jensen could make out his broad shoulders. "It's not my fault this guy keeps his wine locked up tighter than Fort Knox."

"Yeah, well, hurry it up," Tony ordered impatiently. "The sooner we get this job done, the sooner we can get outta Hickville and back to civilization." Joe just grunted his assent and carefully began wedging the crowbar back under the lock, producing another soft clink of metal on metal.

Jensen saw red. These thugs were obviously sent to either clear out or destroy Jared's wine reserves, to pull the financial rug out from under Jared's feet so he'd have no choice but to sell. It was exactly the kind of underhanded move Vino would pull.

Jensen didn't make any conscious decision to move, but the next thing he knew Tony was staring up at him from the ground, shocked eyes wide and blood pouring from his broken nose. Jensen stared back for a few stunned moments of his own, meaning he almost didn't notice the crowbar aimed at his head.

Jensen's instincts took over. He barely managed to dodge as the big guy swung wide, leaving himself open. Jensen landed a quick sucker-punch to his gut, but he only bought himself a few moments. Tony had somehow managed to scramble to his feet and get behind Jensen. Pain exploded through his body as Tony's fist viciously hit first one kidney, then the other. He collapsed to his knees and Tony wrapped one arm around his throat and squeezed. Jensen clawed at Tony's hold, feeling his windpipe being crushed. His vision began to gray around the edges, but he could make out Joe's ugly, hulking form looming over him, closing in for the kill.

A sudden burst of fear sent adrenaline spiking through Jensen. He threw his body sideways, dragging Tony with him into the dirt and out of Joe's grasp. Between the sudden loss of balance and a well-placed elbow to the ribs, Tony's hold loosened enough for Jensen to break free. He dropped a hard right cross that sent Tony's face lurching sideways before Jensen staggered to his feet. He managed to stomp down hard on Tony's stomach once before Joe tackled him to the ground. Jensen landed hard, the air rushing out of his lungs. He didn't have time to draw breath before Joe had Jensen pinned with one meaty hand around his throat while the other hammered into his ribs. Pain flashed white hot down Jensen's side. He thought he heard the sickening wet crack of bone. He reached up blindly, clawing at his attacker in panic. He managed to drag blunt fingernails across one eye, and Joe reeled back with a pained howl.

Jensen curled protectively on his side, choking on much needed lungfuls of air. Each breath made his lungs burn. He saw Tony matched his posture, so he rolled to his knees and crawled over towards Joe's prone form. He didn't stop to think, he just tangled with the bulky thug in the dirt, concentrating only on landing more punches than the other guy. His body ached, but he couldn't stop. He attacked with a viciousness borne out of desperation and fear. He felt like an animal chased down until he was exhausted and then cornered, nowhere else to run. He could end this, right now. He _had_ to end this. He spied the crowbar out of the corner of his eye and made a mad grab for it, raising it high over his head, ready to bring it crashing down to the man's skull. Before he could move, he felt an iron grip around his wrist. He whirled to take on his new attacker then froze, arm poised for his next strike. Jared stared back at him with wide eyes, equal parts furious and terrified. "Jensen," he said quietly, as if talking to a spooked horse, "It's okay. He's out."

Jensen glanced down at Joe's motionless form. He hadn't even registered when the man stopped struggling, belatedly realizing that through his haze of fury he had been beating an unconcious man. Jared took the crowbar from Jensen's suddenly lax fingers. He felt sick.

Jensen lurched to his feet and forced himself to meet Jared's eyes, now more concerned but still fearful. Jensen had to stop himself from reaching out, from doing anything in his power to keep Jared from looking at Jensen like he had anything to fear from him. The truth was, Jared _should_ fear him. If anything, tonight had proved as much.

"Jensen," Jared said, tone still soft. "What happened?"

Jensen's tongue flicked out nervously, tasting the blood from his split lip. He opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out. What could Jensen honestly say? If Jared hadn't come along, Jensen knew he would have killed those men, and it wouldn't be his first time. Did it really get that much easier to kill once he'd done it already, once he'd been pushed to the edge? Is this what Jensen had become? A killer, no better than the men he was running from?

How could Jared even stand to look at him? He'd seen what Jensen was capable of, what he was about to do. If Jared wasn't so damned nice, he would tell Jensen to hitch a ride as far away from here as he could, or just sick the cops on him. Jared didn't deserve to have this brought down on his head.

"Jensen…" Jared took a hesitant step forward, and Jensen nearly tripped over his own feet in his rush to scramble backwards. He didn't think, he just turned and ran. He disappeared into the night and didn't look back. How could this all be happening again? This was just like before, like the day his life as a fugitive had begun…

~*~*~*~

_Jensen finished wrapping and taping his hands, then leaned back against the lockers with a heavy sigh. Any minute now, Cascone would step into the locker room with Jensen's 'orders.'_

Jensen had been throwing fights for Antonio "Vino" Cascone for the last two years. Jensen had come to Chicago to box, but he quickly discovered that his hopes of becoming the next middleweight champion didn't put food on the table, even if his record proved he had the potential. He was on the verge of being turned out onto the streets when Cascone had approached him with a 'business proposition.' If Jensen threw the fight, then he'd get a share of the gambling profits Cascone would make from the match. Jensen knew he should say no, but, well, he needed to eat, and nobody ever said no to Vino Cascone. He'd hated every fight since that day, because even when Jensen was allowed to win, the victory felt hollow.

"Jenny-boy!" Cascone burst into the locker room, calling his usual greeting. Jensen didn't look up from the boxing gloves in his lap. "Good news, Jenny," Cascone said, clapping Jensen genially on the shoulder. "You get to sit this one out."

Even though Jensen had been expecting it, he still felt a sharp spike of anger course through him at Cascone's words. His hands tightened on the boxing gloves in his hands, fingernails digging into the worn leather. The words were out of his mouth before Jensen could reel them in. "And what if I don't want to this time?"

Cascone's smile solidified on his face, giving him a brittle, dangerous look. "Well then, Jenny, I guess we'd have to discuss that." His tone stayed casual, but there was a sharp edge under it now. He pulled out a fat cigar and lit it up, and Jensen was half tempted to bite out that there was no smoking allowed in the locker rooms. "And if we're gonna discuss that, I guess I'd have to bring up a few of your unsanctioned activities."

Jensen felt himself pale. He'd done a favor for his friend Chris, fighting in a few publicity matches for his new gym. It was supposed to be nothing, but the feeling of winning those few matches—really winning—had been incredible. They'd talked about starting their own tournament free of Cascone's influence, but if Cascone had caught wind of it, then now it was little more than just a pipe dream.

Cascone leaned close and blew acrid smoke in Jensen's face. "You see, Jensen, I've invested a great deal of time and money in you. I think we've come to a good arrangement, and I'd hate to see my investment go up in a puff of smoke." He punctuated the last statement as he dispassionately ground his cigar out on the wooden bench right next to Jensen. The implied threat was not lost on him.

"So, I think it's in everyone's best interest if you just stick to our arrangement. Don't you?" Jensen swallowed tightly and nodded, and Cascone's cheery demeanor instantly reappeared. "Good! I'm glad we had this talk," he chimed, then left the way he came. "And remember, make it look real," he called, not even bothering to look back.

Once out in the ring, Jensen let the other guy hammer him with punches until his ribs creaked with each breath and he was blinking away sweat and blood from the cut over his left eye. Still, each time Jensen had the chance to lie down for the count, he always hesitated a second too long, and then stood up for another round. The fight seemed to go on for hours, until every fiber of Jensen's body ached in protest. Jensen had done it dozens of times before, but this time he just couldn't bring himself to lie down and collect the money.

Jensen's opponent was beginning to look just as worn out as Jensen was. Jensen had managed to land a few punches to the guy's face and gut, and he smiled a little to himself whenever he looked at the guy's fat lip. A quick volley of punches had Jensen up against the ropes, and the guy hissed over the roar of the crowd, "Look buddy, the sooner you lay down, the sooner we can both collect our money and get outta here."

Something inside Jensen snapped. He shoved the guy away with a yell, then he attacked. The guy didn't know what hit him. He was only able to hold his gloves up in a feeble attempt to block the blows Jensen was raining down on his head and torso. Jensen was fed up, and he poured all of his frustration and anger into his fists. For the last two years he had felt like a hollow, empty shadow of the man he was before. He was better than this, damn it. He may have sacrificed his honor and his dreams for the past two years, but no more. He didn't have to live like this. He was done.

With one final blow, the guy tottered, then fell to the ground in an unconscious heap. The crowd gave a cheer. Jensen stood, shocked into stillness as the referee checked the guy and made the count. He was vaguely aware of his arm being raised in victory, and even Cascone's furious face couldn't tamp down the thrill of release spreading through Jensen's veins.

By the time Jensen had showered, gotten dressed, and had his injuries treated, most of the crowd had dispersed. Jensen cleaned out his locker with a lightness in his chest that had been missing for the past two years. He had finally stood up to Cascone. He planned to visit Chris at his gym early tomorrow morning to break the good news. Starting up their own tournament wouldn't be easy, but it would be good, honest work, and that suited Jensen just fine.

Jensen exited the locker room through the side door, stepping out into alley. It had rained recently, and the air smelled cleaner. The street lights glittered on the wet pavement. Jensen adjusted his bag on his shoulders and had already taken a few quiet steps when he saw the figure huddled in the shadows. Jensen stiffened, trying to ignore the fear rising in his chest as the figure stepped out into the light. He was one of Cascone's hired thugs.

Drawing himself to his full height, Jensen called out angrily, "If you're trying to scare me into going back, it won't work. Tell your boss we're finished."

"Mr. Cascone doesn't appreciate being ignored," the thug said, drawing closer until Jensen's back was against the damp brick wall of the alley. Reaching inside his jacket and withdrawing a gun, he continued, "Let's just say he prefers to cut his losses."

Jensen's stomach leapt to his throat, choking off his air. The thug cocked the gun. Jensen reacted purely on instinct, swinging his bag towards the guy's head. The gun went skittering across the pavement, but the thug kept coming. Jensen quickly sidestepped and used the guy's momentum to send him smashing face first into the wall, then landed a vicious punch to his kidneys. While the guy was still doubled over in pain, Jensen made a mad dash for the gun. He was almost there when he felt the guy plow into his back with the force of a freight train and they both went crashing down onto the pavement.

Jensen struggled to get out from under the thug's oppressive weight, his heart fluttering in his chest like a trapped animal's. The guy just spun Jensen around and hauled him up by his shirt collar. He punched Jensen with enough force to make the back of Jensen's skull collide with the pavement, and Jensen's ears rang with the impact. The moment he felt hands wrap around his throat he lashed out blindly, clocking the guy squarely under the jaw and knocking him away. Jensen rolled with the motion. He landed a few more solid punches that busted open cuts on the thugs' cheekbones and lips, as well as on Jensen's knuckles. When he was sure the guy was at least dazed, he quickly stood and scrambled for the gun. He found it in a puddle, fumbling with the cold, slick metal in his hands. He whirled on the thug just as he was standing up and preparing another assault. They both froze.

Jensen had never been more terrified in his life. His hands were shaking so hard on the gun that they were flinging little droplet of water from the wet metal. The thug glanced down at Jensen's trembling grip and sneered, apparently deciding Jensen wouldn't fire. He took a step forward, and Jensen didn't think before he pulled the trigger.

The thug doubled over, clutching at his stomach. They shared a wide-eyed look of shock before he crumpled to the ground. Jensen numbly watched smoke curl from the barrel of the gun.

He'd just killed a man—a man that Cascone had sent to kill him. He doubted Cascone would give two bits about the life of some random flunkie, but he would take Jensen's refusal to die as a personal insult. With Cascone, you either played by his rules or you didn't play at all.

Jensen couldn't go to the police and claim self defense, because nearly half the department was already in Cascone's pocket. There was no one to protect him from Cascone. And once Cascone found out what had happened, there would be nowhere in Chicago for Jensen to hide.

Jensen hastily dropped the gun into the puddle where he'd found it, barely hearing the quiet splash.

He ran.

~*~*~*~

Jensen tore blindly through the fields, not even caring where he was going, only wanting to get away. It wouldn't be the first time he'd left with nothing but the clothes on his back, and he doubted it would be the last. His feet pounded into the dirt and his lungs burned, bruised ribs protesting with each breath. He barely felt the ache in his hand, a distant reminder of the pain that he couldn't escape, no matter how hard he ran.

He remembered the media frenzy over the murder, how it seemed to follow him wherever he went. Somebody, probably one of Cascone's men, had given his picture to the press. Every time he spotted it in the local paper, he couldn't get out of town fast enough. He would just pick up and go, getting further and further away from Chicago. This time was no different. He was leaving for Jared's own good. Cascone would find out. He would come here. He would tear down any obstacle that stood in the way of what he wanted, and Jared stood in the path of both Jensen and the vineyard.

Jensen stopped. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered that he was atop his favorite hill, where he came sometimes to look down over the fields. Jensen barely noticed. His mind had latched on to the one thought that could halt him in his tracks: Cascone was coming for Jared.

Jensen sank to the ground as if falling through quicksand. His feet felt like cinderblocks. He knew this would happen. He let it go on to long and now he couldn't leave even if he wanted to. Jared had no idea what he was dealing with, the kind of things Cascone was capable of, but Jensen did. It might do more harm than good, but Jensen had no choice. He had to stay, to protect Jared, at least until he knew Jared was safe. Still, that wasn't the only reason his feet refused to go any further. He told himself he was staying to protect Jared, but there was a large part of him that simply didn't want to leave, that was sick of running. Perhaps even worse, he wanted to indulge in the fantasy he still couldn't fully admit to having, even to himself. He wanted to stay, to be with Jared, to give in to the hot rush in his veins, and damn the consequences.

Jensen sat back on his heels and took a deep, steadying breath. He waited for sunrise, trying to convince himself he wasn't a selfish coward.

* * *

Mike and Tom waited at the house for the police to arrive and cart away the two burglars while Jared headed out to search for Jensen. He didn't find Jensen until dawn, the purple-gold rays breaking over the horizon aiding his search. Jensen was sitting at the top of a hill near the outer edges of the vineyard, watching the sunrise turn the rows green and gold. Jared approached his back silently, but he could tell when Jensen noticed his presence by the sudden tension in his shoulders. Undeterred, Jared sank down next to him. He didn't speak as he matched Jensen's posture, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. They sat like that for a long time, the early morning stillness growing thick between them as the sun crested over the horizon. Jared was almost growing comfortable with the charged silence when Jensen spoke.

"I should leave," he said quietly, not meeting Jared's eyes. He opened his mouth like there was more he wanted to say, but after a moment he snapped it shut again.

Jared felt like he'd swallowed a bucket of rocks. Still, he managed to keep his voice casual as he asked, "Do you want to leave?"

Jensen bit his lip, and Jared waited. "No," he finally answered, voice barely a whisper. It felt strangely like an apology.

Jared set his jaw, his voice firm and decisive as he spoke. "Then don't," he said simply. Jensen frowned at that answer, but said nothing. Jared followed Jensen's gaze to Jensen's hands, noticing that Jensen's knuckles were purple and bruised, blood slowly trickling from where the largest knuckle had been busted open on his right hand. Without thinking, Jared reached over and took Jensen's hand, wiping away the blood with a gentle brush of his thumb. Jensen sucked in a startled breath and froze, every muscle in his body tensing at once. Jared knew he'd crossed a line, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away and act like it was nothing. It was _something_, damn it, and he had to know if he was the only one who felt it. They stayed frozen like that for several tense moments. Jared felt like the world had stopped spinning on its axis. It was eerily silent, no rustling of leaves in the breeze, as if even the wind had stopped to hold its breath in anticipation. Jared felt the calloused skin of Jensen's palm under his, warmth where they touched canceling out the cool early morning air. Jared wondered if they'd turned to stone, frozen like this until time and the elements eventually turned them to dust.

Then, slowly, like ice melting in the spring thaw, Jensen's fingers closed around Jared's, and the world jolted into motion.

Jared's eyes snapped up as he sucked in a sharp, involuntary breath. Jensen's eyes were the wild green shade of the vines at their feet. He looked about as shocked as Jared felt, jaw clenched in a tense frown. For a moment, Jared just hung on, feeling the air thick around them, pressing in on him and making it impossible to breathe. Jensen's turbulent gaze was locked on his, so close to breaking open, barely hanging on to the last vestiges of that tightly reigned control. Then boldly, deliberately, Jared reached up with his free hand and grazed the tip of his thumb over the bruise high on Jensen's cheek.

Jensen's eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted in a gasp. A split second later those eyes locked on Jared again, and Jared had to swallow thickly past the lump that formed in his throat. Jensen was gutted. His carefully constructed walls had crumbled to dust. He looked completely wrecked, split wide open, and Jared was stunned by the blazing _want_ that was rolling off Jensen in waves. Jared could feel the answering buzz under his skin, heat crawling up his spine and making his head dizzy and thick. Hand still cupped on Jensen's cheek, Jared began to draw them together, faces inching towards each other as if through molasses. Jensen's chest was heaving in steady, measured breaths. Jared could feel each warm, moist gust of air as it passed over his lips, such a sharp contrast to the lingering chill of his skin not yet burned away by the rising sun. Jared was so close he could see the way the golden orange of the sunrise darkened Jensen's freckles and made the tips of his lashes glow.

The moment Jared's eyelids fell shut in anticipation, it was as if the spell had been broken. Jensen jerked back like he'd been burned, and Jared nearly tumbled face first into the dirt. Jensen's eyes looked wide and scared, and he was breathing hard as he ungracefully scrambled backwards, sucking in harsh lungfuls of air. Jared was left gaping at him in startled confusion, suddenly cold without Jensen's presence to shield him from the gentle breeze. Jensen hastily got to his feet, eyes darting everywhere but at Jared. He didn't run, but he sure as hell didn't take his time getting away from Jared, either. Jared watched his hasty escape, mouth hanging open, still reeling a little in shock. It took a moment, but eventually frustration bubbled up in his chest, and he dug his fingernails into the dirt, the gritty dust replacing the feeling of Jensen's warm, rough skin against his palm. By the time he'd made up his mind to follow, Jensen was out of sight.

[Part 4](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/14650.html#cutid1)


	4. You Go To My Head (P4)

_ **You Go To My Head (P4)** _

  


Jensen carefully avoided Jared for the rest of the day. In fact, he avoided everyone. His mind was still spinning crazily from the fact that he'd almost kissed Jared, had wanted it with a desperation that seemed to come out of nowhere. Pulling away had felt a lot like ripping his lungs from his chest, but there was no other choice. For the first time in his life, Jensen was grateful for his moment of cowardice, but in truth that was only a small part of the reason he had pulled back. He'd already figured out that his feelings for Jared far outweighed the fact he was terrified of his attraction to another man. If that was the only thing holding him back, he wouldn't hesitate to pull Jared's face down in the middle of Sunday mass and kiss him until there was no oxygen left in their lungs.

But he couldn't do that to Jared, wouldn't start something he couldn't finish. He'd already made his mind up to stay at the vineyard until the Cascone situation was resolved, but that didn't change the fact that he was still wanted for murder. Sooner or later, someone would recognize him. The cops would come looking for him, maybe even charge Jared with harboring a fugitive. Sooner or later, he would _have_ to leave, no matter how badly he wanted to stay.

Jensen hid in the fields and strongly considered just curling up on a patch of cool grass and sleeping under the stars, but deep down he knew he couldn't avoid Jared forever, especially if he planned to keep an eye out for Cascone's men. He waited until it had been dark for several hours before he made his way back towards the house. From a distance he could see that the windows were dark, and he hoped that meant that everyone was asleep and he could sneak back into the house unnoticed.

The moon was unusually bright, illuminating the path to the back door and casting harsh black shadows everywhere else. Jensen padded quietly towards the house. His hand was inches from the door when a voice spoke in the darkness. "About damn time. I've been freezing my ass off out here waiting for you."

Jensen nearly jumped out of his skin and turned in time to see Jared step out of the shadows, moonlight spilling over his features as if emerging from behind a black curtain. His shoulders were set in an angry line and his eyes were hard, if a little glassy. A bottle of wine was held at his side in a white-knuckled grip, but Jensen couldn't see how much of it was left. Given that Jared's words were clipped but not slurred, Jensen suspected he hadn't had too much, but he'd had enough.

"We need to talk," Jared said, tone suggesting Jensen wasn't running away from him this time. Jensen, however, was determined to avoid this conversation at all costs.

"Jared, you're drunk. Go inside and sleep it off," Jensen said, attempting to brush past Jared. One large hand lashed out faster than Jensen suspected, capturing his bicep in an almost bruising grip.

"I'm not drunk," Jared protested hotly. "And you're not going anywhere until you talk to me."

Jensen shrugged out of Jared's grip, feeling his temper flare. He let out a harsh sigh and asked, "What do you want, Jared?"

Jared took a step back as if he'd been struck. "What do _I_ want? Oh, _fuck you,_ Jen!" Jared snarled, his voice rising. "You know, everyone in the world is not out to get you, and especially not me. So why don't we forget about what I want for a second and you can tell me what the hell _you_ want?" Jared's shouting was interrupted by a sudden light in the upstairs window, and Jensen quickly grabbed Jared by the elbow and roughly hauled him around to the side of the wine cellar. Jared struggled and lost his grip on the wine bottle in the process, and it fell to the ground with a quiet thump, spilling its contents in the dirt. Once they were safely away from prying eyes and ears, Jensen shoved Jared up against the cold stone wall, partly out of anger and partly out of the need to prop up Jared's tipsy frame. Jared threw off Jensen's hold and continued, undeterred. "What do you want, Jensen? You want to leave? Then go. Nobody's stopping you."

Jared's tone was deceptively casual, but his voice hitched slightly over the words. Jensen didn't know how to answer that, a hundred different responses flitting through his mind but none of them could be put into words. When Jensen didn't answer, Jared pushed away from the wall and loomed into Jensen's space, eyes blazing and voice a low growl. "Fine, then. How about we start with the truth? You never talk about your past, Jen. You keep pulling away whenever I get too close. Who are you, really?"

Jensen had to look away, shuffle backwards a step. "Jared—" he began.

"Tell me, Jen!" Jared yelled loud enough to make Jensen flinch. "I think I at least deserve that much!"

Jensen had to tilt his face up to meet Jared's eyes. "Don't, Jared. Just—" He took a deep breath, swallowed hard. "There are things you don't want to know about me."

"You don't have any fucking idea what I want," Jared laughed humorlessly, his gaze drilling into Jensen like he could see right through him.

Jensen met his gaze, unblinking. "I know you don't want this," he said quietly. He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Jared or himself.

That finally seemed to shock Jared out of his anger. Jensen wondered for a moment if he'd gone too far, if he'd somehow gotten too close to saying outright what they'd been dancing around for weeks. Then suddenly, Jared was in his space again, so close Jensen could smell the wine on his breath and the sweat on his skin. Jensen moved to take an involuntary step back, but Jared's hands came up to clutch high on his arms, holding him in place, and Jensen was suddenly aware of Jared's size and strength in a way that made him wonder why he'd never realized just how easily Jared could manhandle him, and how badly Jensen wanted to let him. When Jared spoke, it was in a tone Jensen had never heard before, a low growl that made heat curl thick and slow in Jensen's belly. "You want to know what I want, Jen? I want _you_." Jared held his gaze and let his words sink in. Jensen struggled to ignore the way he felt his skin flush hot, the desire pulsing through his body in time with his heartbeat. "I've wanted you since the moment I met you. I thought it would go away but it hasn't, and now every day I'm around you and can't touch you it's killing me." There was a pause so tense Jensen was sure he was drowning in it. Abruptly, Jared flashed a bitter grin. "You gonna take a swing at me?"

Jensen was thinking about it, if only to derail the way he wanted to close the gap between them, bring their bodies flush together.

"Go ahead, hit me. It still won't convince me you don't want this just as much as I do."

At that, Jensen finally found his voice. "I don't."

It sounded surprisingly convincing, even to Jensen, but Jared just glared smugly. "I don't believe you."

Jensen needed to make him believe it. He needed to run, to turn away from the ache snarling angry and hot in his chest, from the want so thick it stuck in his throat and choked off his air, from the need so sharp it cut through his veins like razor blades, threatening to slice his heart open and lay it bare. He should have run, but he didn't. This was fight or flight, and Jensen was so damn sick of running.

Fighting was in Jensen's blood.

Jensen tangled his fists in the front of Jared's shirt and hauled him in for a fierce kiss.

He'd been hoping to catch Jared off guard, to call his bluff, but it was clear Jensen was out of his depth when Jared's hands came up to frame Jensen's face before their lips even met. Even Jensen's own body turned the tables on him with his reaction to the kiss, blindsiding him as every point of contact between them intensified with a force that left him dizzy, off balance. Jared's lips were surprisingly soft against Jensen's, and the shock of it quickly sent Jensen's control in a downward spiral. Jared's mouth slid over Jensen's, hungry but gentle, sucking on his bottom lip with an intensity that stole the air from his lungs.

There was still time for Jensen to pull away, to play it cool and point out that this was a huge mistake, but Jensen found there wasn't a single molecule of his body that was free of Jared's pull. Even the startling newness of kissing another man was overshadowed by the fact that this was _Jared_ he was kissing, and Jensen couldn't seem to get enough. Then Jared flicked his tongue over the seam of Jensen's lips, and Jensen's mouth parted in an embarrassingly needy whimper. Jared moaned like he'd been waiting forever for permission and plunged his tongue past Jensen's lips. It lit a roaring fire in Jensen's blood and he groaned loudly into Jared's mouth, clutching blindly at any part of Jared he could reach in an effort to bring their bodies together.

Jared instantly took the hint and half-shoved, half-carried Jensen back the two steps to the stone wall of the wine cellar. Sharp, cold rocks dug between Jensen's shoulder blades but he didn't care because he had Jared's entire body pressing into him, holding him still, and thank god they hadn't stopped kissing because Jensen was addicted to the taste of Jared's mouth. Jared wedged a knee between Jensen's thighs and Jensen felt Jared's hot, hard length digging insistently into his hip, and that was it. Jensen felt the last vestiges of his restraint slip from his grasp like smoke through his fingers, and he instinctively rocked his hips into Jared's with a greedy moan. Jared muttered an unintelligible curse against Jensen's lips, then pressed closer for one all to brief second before pulling away. Jensen leaned forward to chase his mouth with a breathless noise of protest, but Jared's hands on his shoulders held him firmly until there was an unbearable arm length of space between their bodies.

Jared's eyes were dark and a little wild in the moonlight. When he got his breathing under some semblance of control, the first thing Jared said was, "If that's your way of telling me you don't want this, you're a shitty liar."

Reality came crashing back over Jensen like a tidal wave of ice cold water. All he wanted to do was drag Jared back to him by his belt loops, but instead he sighed heavily and said, regret and desire thick in his voice, "Jared, we can't—"

"Yes we can," Jared stated with so much certainty that even Jensen almost believed it was possible, that they could make this work with nothing but guts and good intentions. But Jensen knew better, and the world didn't work that way. He'd learned that lesson first hand.

"We _shouldn't_," Jensen said, matching the certainty in Jared's tone.

Jared frowned and took a step towards Jensen, closing the gap that Jensen could feel like a solid presence between them. "Maybe not," he agreed softly, reaching up to wrap one large hand under Jensen's jaw. "But don't make me give you up."

Jensen only considered his options for a moment before pulling Jared down for another blinding kiss. He returned to his room a half-hour later lost in a blissful haze and in desperate need of a cold shower. He didn't even notice the hickeys until the next morning, when Mike pointed them out with a wicked grin.

* * *

Jared lay in bed after another hard day's work, his head pillowed on one arm and his feet hanging off the edge of the too-short cot. A warm summer night breeze streamed in through his open window. Jared had gone to bed in only his boxers, his long frame stretched out on top of the sheets. He could feel the air drying the sweat as it formed on his skin, making it feel clammy and tight. The moonlight painted everything a silvery blue, casting hazy grey shadows at odd angles. Jared was exhausted but the day had gone well, and if he had to guess he'd say the grapes would be ready to harvest soon. Jared was trying hard to manage some semblance of focus for his vines, but more and more Jared's thoughts were filled with only Jensen.

The last few days had been nothing but stolen kisses. Less than an hour after Mike figured it out, everyone else knew about them, but that didn't stop Jared and Jensen from sneaking off to make out under the afternoon shade of the pine tree behind the house, grasping at each other like sex-starved teenagers. Jared liked the clandestine feeling of it, like this was something special they only shared between the two of them. There would always be a small part of Jared that wanted to climb to the roof and write "I Love Jensen" in letters big enough for planes to see, but he knew what kind of a world they lived in. He hoped that someday all that would change, but for right now Jared was just happy to have this part of Jensen all to himself.

Jared had just started to drift off, remembering that sweet little whimper Jensen made when Jared nuzzled behind his ear, but the soft click of Jared's bedroom door brought him back from the edges of sleep. He opened his eyes to find Jensen standing there, wearing only an undershirt and white cotton boxers, his body outlined in moonlight and shadow. Jared strongly suspected he was actually dreaming.

They stayed like that, Jared shocked into stillness and Jensen frozen against the door, for several seconds. Finally, Jared found his voice. "Jensen?" He moved to sit up, but Jensen hastily held his hand out in a 'stop' motion. Jared paused, already raised to his elbows.

"Don't," Jensen said, his voice barely a whisper. There was a funny tremor in his throat. "Just…stay there. This'll be easier if you just…let me…"

Jared felt queasy with worry, suddenly terrified that Jensen was here to tell him goodbye, but he nodded. Jensen stayed glued to the door for another half a minute, and then he seemed to force himself to move closer. After the first few faltering steps towards Jared's bed, each step appeared to come easier. It seemed to take forever for Jensen to cross the ocean of space between Jared's door and his bed, and then suddenly Jensen was there, kneeling at the side of Jared's bed like some bizarre altar, a look of fear and awe on his face that Jared knew matched his own. Jensen's eyes were the deep green found in the center of an emerald, so dark it was almost black. Jared couldn't tear his gaze away.

Jensen slowly reached out and threaded his fingers through Jared's hair, dragging his thumb down the side of Jared's face. Jared's eyes fluttered closed and he sucked in a quiet breath. He could lose himself in that touch for days. When Jensen's lips pressed against his, it felt like no other kiss they'd shared. It was slow, tentative, but not chaste. Jensen's tongue explored the seam of Jared's lips, licking gently inside in a way that lit a fire in Jared's belly. Jared curled long fingers around the nape of Jensen's neck, thumb resting against the rapid flutter of Jensen's pulse. After a moment, Jensen's hand came up to rest softly over Jared's, as if to reassure himself that Jared really had a hold on him, and would catch him if he fell.

Everything went soft and blurry with the realization that they were doing this. They were actually _doing_ this. It felt both too soon and not soon enough. Suddenly, Jensen's hesitation of a moment ago made sense, and Jared was amazed, not for the first time, at Jensen's bravery.

Jared broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Jensen's and staying so close he was breathing Jensen's air. "What do you want to do?" he whispered, because if there was one thing Jared wanted to give Jensen, it was anything and everything he asked.

Jensen lifted Jared's hand from the back of his neck and held it tight, pressing soft kisses to Jared's fingertips. Jared knew enough about Jensen to recognize it as the stalling tactic it was, but he let Jensen have as much time as he needed. "I…I don't know," Jensen finally said, face buried in Jared's palm and refusing to meet his eyes. "What do you want?"

God, there were so many things Jared didn't even know where to start. But then Jensen's lips brushed across Jared's lifeline, and he knew more than anything he wanted to make this good for Jensen. "I want to touch you," he said. "Can I?"

Jensen nodded his permission into Jared's palm, and then Jared had Jensen's face cradled in his hands, kissing him as they both rose to sit on the edge of Jared's bed. Jared skirted his fingers under the hem of Jensen's shirt, feeling the way Jensen's stomach muscles jumped against his palm. He trailed his fingers upwards, peeling the fabric slowly from Jensen's skin. When Jensen raised his arms, Jared lifted the shirt over his shoulders and head, leaving Jensen's hair mussed and his cheeks flushed. Jared's hands found their way back to Jensen's waist, ghosting light touches over Jensen's skin, up his chest. The moment seemed too thin and tenuous for much more, like someone had stretched a gossamer film over the night. Jared watched with avid interest as the dark crescents of Jensen's lashes fluttered against his cheeks. One of Jared's thumbs flicked over a nipple, and Jensen's kiss-wet lips parted in a bitten off moan. Just that small response had Jared's heart feeling like it might explode in his chest.

One hand continued drawing lazy patterns on Jensen's hip while the other crept up to thread through the short hairs at the base of Jensen's skull. Jared pressed a warm, wet kiss to the thin skin of Jensen's pulse point, then trailed lighter kisses from jaw to collarbone. "Don't you want to touch me, too?" Jared breathed into the skin of Jensen's neck.

Tentatively, Jensen wrapped his hand around Jared's wrist. At the shy innocence of the touch, Jared hid his smile into the cradle of Jensen's shoulder, because he was pretty sure that Jensen's hand had been firmly attached to Jared's ass only a few hours ago. Jensen skimmed his fingers up Jared's arm, then huffed a laugh into Jared's hair when he reached Jared's bicep and felt him flex. "Show off," Jensen murmured, sinking his fingers into the sweat-damp curls at the nape of Jared's neck.

"Only around you," Jared answered, then grazed his teeth over the soft patch of skin behind Jensen's ear. Jensen gasped and clutched at Jared's back.

Jensen let out a breathless, "Jay," before Jared sealed his lips over Jensen's. There was something about kissing Jensen that made sparks ignite along Jared's spine like a burning fuse, every single time. Jensen shifted so he could gently pull Jared down until they were stretched out on the bed, bodies meeting with acres of bare skin between them, Jared's weight pressing him into the thin mattress. They took their time exploring every inch of each other's skin, hands roaming possessively and mouths meeting with ever increasing heat. Jared felt like he'd been hard for days, his hips pressed snugly against Jensen's, only a few thin strips of cotton separating Jared from the matching heat he could feel trapped in Jensen's boxers.

He knew it had only been a few short weeks, but to Jared it felt like he'd been waiting a lifetime for this moment, and now he wasn't about to waste it. He needed to show Jensen everything he was feeling, how amazing this thing was between them. Jared took his time kissing his way down Jensen's chest, circling his tongue around each hardened nub and flicking a teasing lick over Jensen's navel. Jared grazed blunt teeth over Jensen's hip before he pulled Jensen's boxers down his legs, revealing his thick, hard cock twitching against his belly.

Taking Jensen in hand, Jared sucked a soft, wet kiss against the side of Jensen's shaft, drawing the velvety skin between wet lips. Jensen flung his arm over his face, letting out a sigh that sounded more like a sob. Jared wasn't sure how to take the broken sound coming from Jensen's throat. "Do you want me to stop?" Jared asked, suddenly nervous.

"Don't you fucking dare," Jensen said, an edge of desperation underlying the command. Jared smiled and sucked another kiss to the base before trailing a long, slow lick up the underside of Jensen's cock. When Jared wrapped his lips around the head, Jensen let out a quiet cry like something inside him had shattered. Jared pressed a soothing hand to Jensen's stomach and sank deeper, not stopping until he felt Jensen's cock bump against the back of his throat. He swallowed once around the head, drinking down the taste of bitter salt from Jensen's skin and precome. It was a heady rush, having Jensen this way, knowing Jensen was coming apart for him. He wanted to shake Jensen's every foundation until all his carefully constructed walls came tumbling down in a pile of rubble.

He pulled back slowly, working his tongue along Jensen's shaft and drawing a muffled whine from Jensen's throat. He circled his tongue around the head before making another pass, building a rhythm that had Jensen shaking and sweaty and practically writhing beneath him. A few broken, mangled syllables were the only warning Jared got before Jensen came, spilling over Jared's tongue and down his throat. Jared swallowed what he could and licked Jensen's softening cock clean, ignoring his own erection in favor of watching Jensen recover from his orgasmic haze.

Jared watched glassy green eyes blink slowly before they cleared. Jensen met his gaze with no walls behind his eyes, open and vulnerable in a way that seemed more intimate than even sex could match. When Jensen reached out bonelessly towards him, Jared's breath caught in his chest and he crawled up Jensen's body. He rested his head under Jensen's chin and listened to his racing heartbeat as strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Didn't figure you for a cuddler," Jared said into Jensen's skin.

"Not normally, I just—I've been with women before, but I never felt...Is it always like this?"

Jared tried not to let the slightly awestruck tone go to his head. "Only with you," he answered honestly. No one had ever made Jared feel this way, and Jensen hadn't even touched him yet.

As if reading his mind, Jensen ran his thumb over Jared's bottom lip, staring intently at his mouth and deep in thought. Finally, Jensen pulled Jared's face up towards his and began a tentative kiss. Jared followed Jensen's lead as the kiss deepened from the gentle brush of lips to hesitant licks, never taking it farther than Jensen offered, even though the idea of Jensen learning his taste from Jared's mouth was quietly driving him wild.

It seemed to take no time at all before Jensen started plunging his tongue hungrily into Jared's mouth, flipping Jared onto his back and trailing wet kisses over his neck and chest, then lower. Jared threw his head back and nearly howled with relief when Jensen's hot, wet mouth closed over the head of his cock, tongue shyly lapping at the slit. Jared was so crazed he felt like he might come at any second, and it didn't take much time before Jensen grew bolder, sucking as much of Jared's shaft into his mouth as he could and using his hand on the rest. There wasn't much finesse involved, but it was wet and hot and god, Jensen's _mouth_ and it was only a few seconds before Jared came with absolutely no warning. Jensen pulled off in surprise after the first spurt, and the second caught him across the chin and cheekbone. Jared could've come just from that sight alone.

Jensen stroked Jared through his aftershocks, long enough to start feeling a little guilty about his early finish. "Sorry, I didn't mean to, uh…"

Jensen smiled and used his clean hand to wipe the come from his face and neck. "Are you kidding? I'm taking that as a compliment, because there's no way my technique was that good," he said, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Jared felt his cheeks flush hot tried to hide it by grabbing the towel and basin from the bedside table. By the time they were done washing up, Jared could feel his eyelids start to droop. He studied Jensen's face in the moonlight for several seconds before he made up his mind, curling his fingers around Jensen's wrist and giving him a sleepy tug onto the bed then draping himself over Jensen's body like an overgrown octopus. He tried very hard not to laugh at the vaguely disgruntled glare Jensen was giving the ceiling, but he failed miserably. "I thought we established that I'm not the cuddly type," Jensen grumbled.

"Except for after really fantastic sex," Jared pointed out helpfully. "Since you're sleeping with me, you'll obviously need to get used to lots of cuddling."

Jensen snorted. "I see you got a giant sized ego to go with that giant head of yours."

"They came in a set, along with my giant cock."

That drew a laugh out of Jensen and he seemed to relent, settling more comfortably under Jared's sprawl. They drifted into a sleepy silence after that, until Jensen broke the stillness. "And if you think I'm the little spoon, you've got another thing coming."

Jared smiled and quietly plotted ways to make Jensen the little spoon by morning.

***

Jared woke the next morning to the sunlight streaming in rosy and dim through the window. Jensen's face was tucked into his pillow like a little boy's, orange-red sunrise giving his skin an ethereal glow. Jared catalogued each freckle and gold-flecked eyelash he could find before the bright California daylight stole them away. When the early birdsongs finally pulled Jensen from his peaceful slumber, he found Jared already wide awake. "Tell me about where you're from," Jared said quietly and without preamble.

Jensen was still blinking the sleep from his eyes. "Mmf…you mean Texas? Didn't you grow up there too?"

Jared settled his face close to Jensen's on the pillow with a small eyeroll. "Not the same city," he explained.

The one corner of Jensen's mouth that Jared could see turned up in an indulgent smile. "Alright," he yawned, twining his fingers casually with Jared's beneath the sheets. "I grew up in a small town just outside of Dallas. My mom was an artist and my dad had his own hardware shop, selling all sorts of things, spare parts and stuff. I used to play with the junk I found in the back room as a kid. I loved going to work with my dad, and I suppose he figured I'd take up the business when I was old enough, but he never said anything about it."

Jensen paused then, a far off look on his face, and Jared was almost afraid to ask him to continue. Still, he couldn't shake the urge to know everything about Jensen, to learn what had made that small Texas boy into the man he was now. "So why did you leave?" he asked gently.

Jensen frowned. "I was pretty small for my age. I got picked on a lot at school, and when my dad found out he started teaching me how to fight. I caught on fast. The bullies left me alone, and as I got older I started taking up boxing at the local gym. I got to be pretty good. Developed quite a record of knock outs, and I started having these dreams of making it big as a professional. I left town as soon as I graduated high school and…I went to Chicago."

Jared waited, sensing there was more to the story, but when nothing ever came, Jared prompted, "And?"

"And what?" Jensen said, hand tightening on Jared's under the sheets.

"And what happened in Chicago?"

Jensen bit his lip and wouldn't meet Jared's eyes. "Nothing. I bombed out. Couldn't cut it." He turned back to Jared, drawing him in for a soft kiss. "Can we not talk about this anymore? It doesn't matter, it's in the past. I'm here, now," he said, brushing a lock of hair from Jared's forehead. "I like being here."

Jared felt his lips stretch into a soft smile at the admission. He knew Jensen was still hiding something, but he was willing to let it go for now. "I like you being here, too," he said, rolling his body half on top of Jensen's and smothering him in a lazy, slow kiss. Jensen's hands came up to bracket Jared's hips, palms warm and a little sweaty against his bare skin. They hadn't bothered to put their boxers back on last night, and Jared could feel Jensen's cock awakening slowly against his thigh.

Jared had an idea. He was suddenly very grateful that Chad had kept a container of petroleum jelly in the small nightstand between their cots, even if he still shuddered to think about the exact reason Chad had kept it so handy. He reached over Jensen with one long arm and fumbled in the drawer, palming the small tin and dropping it onto Jensen's bare chest. Jensen blinked at it for a second, then turned his baffled look on Jared. "What are you—"

Jared silenced him with a searing kiss, letting the desire he felt simmering under his skin bleed through. He was surprised at how quickly Jensen went pliant beneath him, and he pulled back to meet glassy green eyes with a smile. "Let me do this for you," Jared whispered against Jensen's lips. Jensen's only answer was to meet Jared in another hungry kiss, mouth opening wide under Jared's, and Jared decided that answer was good enough for him.

He doubted Jensen even noticed when he stuck two fingers into the thick goop and tossed the tin vaguely in the direction of the nightstand. It wound up landing on the floor with a clatter, but Jared didn't care. He kept kissing Jensen, pushing his tongue into Jensen's warm, inviting mouth as he snaked his fingers down the cleft of his own ass towards his entrance. Jared hissed as he pushed one finger inside, arching his back to find the right angle. It wasn't long before one finger became two, and Jared's lips fell open as he moaned into Jensen's mouth.

Jared gently began rocking his hips into the cradle of Jensen's thighs, each slow, inward press dragging his cock over Jensen's fluttering stomach, leaving a sticky trail of precome on his skin. Wordlessly, he threaded the fingers of his free hand through Jensen's, then reached back and guided their hands to his entrance.

"God, Jay, are you—_fuck_," Jensen groaned, feeling Jared's fingers slip through his and sink into his body. Jensen teased a little at the slick skin where Jared's fingers breached his entrance, exploratory, learning the slip, slide and stretch as Jared rocked back into his hand, scissoring and crooking his fingers so Jensen could feel the stretch of Jared's body. Jared took his time opening himself up, letting Jensen watch every flicker of emotion that crossed his face. When he hit the right spot it was almost by accident. Jared jerked and cried out, the sharp noise turning into a gasping moan buried against Jensen's neck. "Fuck, Jay, let me," Jensen begged breathlessly, and then one of Jensen's fingers pushed in alongside Jared's two. Jared nearly fell apart right then, body shuddering on the brink before Jared wrapped his free hand around the base of his cock, hard. It had been so long since Jared had had anything inside himself besides his own fingers, and the thought of Jensen having him like this, of Jensen _wanting_ him like this, was almost too much to bear.

Jared knew he couldn't last much longer, and he wanted Jensen inside him when he came. Slowly, he maneuvered his near-boneless body to his knees. Jensen settled one hand on Jared's hip and the other on his cock, guiding the head to Jared's entrance for a teasing touch that set Jared's skin on fire. When Jared finally sank down onto Jensen's cock, taking him inside, Jared felt his entire body shudder with pleasure so intense he forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything but just feel Jensen inside him, filling him up. "God, Jay—so good, I can't—I have to move," Jensen moaned below him, head thrown back and skin glistening with sweat. Jared had never seen anything quite as beautiful as Jensen coming apart beneath him, and he wondered why it took him so long to realize how completely and utterly lost he was.

Jared didn't trust his voice, so he simply began rocking his hips into the cradle of Jensen's thighs. Jensen got the message instantly, working to meet his rhythm thrust for thrust, and Jared thought if he didn't come soon he would die. Jensen was practically writhing beneath him, making soft, broken little noises of surprise, eyes wide and dark like he'd never expected anything to feel this good, and Jared just had to lean over and kiss him as they came, one after the other.

They missed breakfast—and lunch—but luckily no one came looking for them.

* * *

One day that was so sweltering that even Jensen didn't want to work, Jared gave everyone the day off. Jensen wasn't surprised that they somehow still somehow ended up outside in the fields, but he was finding it difficult to complain when Jared was lying shirtless under the shade of a vine, a bundle of grapes resting on his stomach which he was busily munching on between catnaps. Jensen was with him too, reading one of Jared's old books and wearing a t-shirt, because he'd learned his lesson last time. He was also not-so-covertly stealing grapes from the bundle on Jared's stomach just to see the ridiculous glare Jared shot his way, though Jensen suspected those glares were more due to the fact that Jensen was wearing Jared's cowboy hat. Plus, Jensen also got to brush his fingers over Jared's bare skin each time he took one.

Jensen's book lay forgotten in his lap and he was busy staring at Jared's sleeping, snoring, drooling form and internally debating the pros and cons of waking him up with a bucket of water dumped over his head, so Jensen really wasn't expecting it when the realization slammed into him like a suckerpunch left cross from a heavyweight. Jensen was actually _happy._ He was just sitting in the grass on a hot summer day with a sleeping Jared, and he could honestly say that this was the happiest he'd ever been.

One realization, however, was quickly followed by another. Thinking about how he had lived his life, the things he had done and the things he knew he was capable of, Jensen began to wonder if he actually deserved to be happy. Although he had promised himself after Chicago that he would change, that he wouldn't let his desperation cloud his judgment, how did he justify the way he'd treated Jared? He had never lied to Jared, but he had kept some rather large secrets from the man that made him happier than he'd been in his whole life. Jensen's past could get the people close to him killed, and by hiding that from Jared Jensen was putting him in even more danger. Jared didn't deserve that kind of dishonesty. He'd opened up his life to Jensen, no angle and no strings attached, and he'd given Jensen a second chance. The least he deserved was for Jensen to be honest with him, even if it cost Jensen the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Jared," Jensen said, gently shaking Jared awake. "Jared, I need to tell you something."

Jared mumbled groggily and opened his eyes, but something about Jensen's expression made him sit up sharply, the bundle of grapes rolling into the grass. "What is it? What's wrong?" Jared asked.

When Jensen opened his mouth, he fully intended to tell Jared everything, to confess every detail and lay it all bare. What came out was, "I've figured out my angle." Jared's expression switched from worried to perplexed, and Jensen's mouth continued on independent of his brain. "Do you remember? I said I'd tell you when I'd figured it out, and I…I just did."

An edge of wariness settled behind Jared's eyes, and he spoke in a hesitant tone, like he wasn't sure he really even wanted to know the answer. "So what is it you want?"

Jensen swallowed hard, but the words still forced their way past his dry throat. "I want to stay," he said, realizing as soon as they were out just how true they were. He wanted nothing else in the world to be able to stay here on the vineyard, with Jared, for the rest of his life. "After the harvest, I don't want to leave," he pleaded, sounding to his own ears like a frightened child. "Please, let me stay."

Jared just blinked at him for a full second, the perplexed look firmly back in place before it was replaced by one of the brightest smiles Jensen had ever seen. Jared's gleeful kiss wound up as more of a tackle when Jensen landed on his back in the grass, Jared laughing above him as he said, "Of course you can stay!" Jensen was powerless to stop his own joyful grin from spreading across his face. "You're crazy if you think I'm ever letting go of you, Jen," Jared continued, smothering Jensen in kisses and happier than Jensen had ever seen him.

Jensen allowed himself to be held and tried to let the feel of Jared's strong arms and his own ecstatic relief block out the niggling doubt in the back of his mind telling him he couldn't have this, that he didn't deserve it, and it would all come crashing down.

* * *

The following Sunday, after they'd delivered their cases of wine to Samantha, Jensen stuck around and helped Jared pick up the supplies they needed for the coming week. Well, technically, Jensen was picking out supplies while Jared was doing his best to see just how much he could embarrass Jensen. The jumbo sized jar of petroleum jelly would seem pretty innocent to the general population, but Jared liked the way Jensen flushed to the tips of his ears when Jared pulled that item off the shelf. Tomato red really brought out Jensen's freckles. "Oh! Look!" Jared exclaimed gleefully, grabbing a hat from the rack and putting it on Jensen's head. Jensen scowled up at him from under the brim of the plain brown fedora, his armload of supplies making it impossible for him to snatch it off his head like Jared knew he wanted. Jared grinned. "Trust me Jen, it's you. We should definitely get it. You could use a new hat."

"What's wrong with the one I've got?" Jensen grumbled indignantly.

"You tell me. You're the one who keeps stealing my cowboy hat." Jensen had the good grace to look slightly guilty at that. Jared knew Jensen hadn't been wearing his newsboy cap because it did jack squat to block the sun, and that was the reason he'd been wearing Jared's wide-brimmed cowboy hat. It looked good on him, and Jared had to admit he liked seeing Jensen walk around in his clothes, but Jensen needed a hat of his own, especially since he was going to be sticking around for a long time—forever, if Jared had his way. The simple wool fedora looked like it could handle a bit of wear and tear, and it made Jensen look like a cross between a movie star and a down-home country boy. It wasn't until Jared pictured Jensen wearing nothing _but_ the hat that his mind was made up. "Okay, we're getting it."

"Jay, no," Jensen protested. "It's too expensive. We can't afford it."

Jared knew Jensen was right, but, well, Jensen looked _damn_ good. "Please?" he asked hopefully.

Jensen narrowed his eyes. "It's this or the petroleum jelly, Jared. You decide."

Jared hesitated a second, then put the hat back on the shelf. "Fine," he pouted, then followed Jensen to the register. Samantha added up all the items and took it out of Jared's earnings for the week. When she'd bagged everything up, Jensen grabbed one in each arm and left the third for Jared, then headed out to the truck. As soon as Jared heard the bell over the door chime, signaling Jensen's departure, Jared ran back to the shelf to grab the fedora—and another small tin of petroleum jelly, just in case. "Add these in?" Jared asked, setting the items on the pile.

Samantha's eyes twinkled behind her deceptively impassive expression. "Sure thing, honey." Jared slipped the tin into his pocket for safekeeping and withdrew a little extra cash to cover the extra cost. He heard the bell over the door chime again, and Jared turned, expecting Jensen to be huffing at him impatiently to hurry up. The face he saw instead made his blood run cold, but Vino Cascone didn't even spare him a second glance.

"Excuse me, doll," Cascone addressed Samantha, smoothly grabbing a bottle of Jared's wine off the shelf as he approached. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find the gentleman who makes this fine wine, would you?"

Samantha frowned and sent a curious look at Jared over Cascone's shoulder. It was fast, but Cascone didn't miss it. When he turned, Jared drew himself up to his full height and met Cascone's eyes head on. "That'd be me," he said.

Cascone's gaze quickly flicked over Jared head to toe, taking in the dusty, faded overalls and the somewhat mangled straw hat. When he met Jared's eyes again, he smiled, and Jared had the sinking suspicion he'd just been sized up and summarily dismissed. "Then you must be Jared Padalecki," he said. "And here I thought you'd be a tough man to find. Must be my lucky day." He offered his hand in greeting. Jared didn't take it.

"Speak for yourself, Cascone," Jared said, voice hard.

Cascone's smile widened, revealing rows of pearly white teeth. Jared was vividly reminded of pictures of sharks he'd seen as a child. "I take it my reputation precedes me."

Jared smiled right back. "I recognized you from your mug shot that's been in all the papers. What's the reward up to now? Five thousand dollars?"

Cascone waived his hand dismissively. That kind of cash could easily keep the vineyard running for at least a year, two if Jared stretched, but Jared supposed to a man like Cascone the figure was chump change. "The newspapers exaggerate, as they're prone to do. I'm afraid I'm just a simple businessman, like yourself. Though perhaps a bit wiser in my investments," he added smugly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Cascone shrugged, but his eyes hardened. "Simply that if a man were to be so generous as to offer me double the value of a property I owned, I'd have to be an idiot not to take him up on his offer."

Jared clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "If you thought you could come out here and strong arm me into selling, then I guess you made the trip for nothing. My answer's still no."

"You're young, so I'll forgive your stubbornness," he said with the benevolent air of a patient uncle. "But my offer won't stand forever, and one way or another I will have your land."

"Over my dead body," Jared said.

"I'd prefer it didn't come to that," Cascone said lightly. "But if you insist—"

At that moment, the bell above the shop door jingled, and Jensen's voice rang out clearly through the store. "Jay, are you coming or not? I don't want to wait all—"

Jensen abruptly broke off when Cascone's head whipped around and fixed Jensen with a look that Jared could only describe as surprise, though it seemed out of place on Cascone's face. The look was quickly replaced by Cascone's trademark grin, though this was so joyfully mean that Jared practically felt the air around them grow chilled. If Jared had found Cascone's shark-like grin unsettling before, it was a thousand times more terrifying to have that grin directed at Jensen. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Cascone said smoothly, not bothering to hide his delight.

Jared shot a completely dumbfounded look Jensen's way, and he instantly wished he hadn't. Jensen's face had taken on the pallid shade of a corpse, his lips the color of ash, and his eyes were completely round. He swallowed once, then said the words that shook Jared's entire world and turned it on its head. "Hi, Vino."

* * *

Jensen froze. He'd never been more terrified in his life. He half expected Vino to pull out a gun and shoot him dead right there in the middle of Samantha's general store, in broad daylight. Lucky for Jensen, that wasn't Vino's style. He preferred to have his henchmen do his dirty work for him, preferably in dark back alleys with no witnesses and no way the cops could trace it back to Vino. It was cowardly, but smart. It had kept him out of jail for years.

Jensen and Vino stared at each other for several of the longest moments of Jensen's life, until finally Jared's confused voice broke the silence. "Wait, you know him?"

The question was directed at Jensen, but it was Vino who answered. "Oh, your little friend and I go way back. Don't we, Jenny boy?" Vino sneered and took a step closer. Jensen had to fight the urge to flinch. "You lost me a great deal of money and one of my finest employees with that little stunt you pulled. With all the places I've looked, I never imagined I'd find you holed up on a run-down little vineyard in the middle of California. Well, this makes my trip even more profitable. Two birds with one stone, you might say," he said smoothly.

Jensen's fear bubbled over into rage. He balled his trembling hands into fists and moved forward until he was right in Vino's face, refusing to back down. His voice was low and dangerous as he said, "You come anywhere near him, and I will kill you where you stand."

Vino smiled. "One thing I always liked about you, Jenny boy. You never pulled any punches." His grin widened. "Well, unless I told you to."

Jensen refused to let Vino see how that remark stung. "I mean it, Vino. Stay away from us."

Vino's voice dropped, his tone becoming deathly serious. "A lot of people have tried to kill me, Jenny. None of them lived long enough to make a second attempt. I doubt you'll live long enough to make a first."

  
Jensen felt Jared's hand on his arm and he broke away from his glare at Vino to find Jared staring at him, his face pale and confused. "Jensen," he said quietly, "let's just go home. Please?"

Jensen's veneer of strength began to crumble under Jared's gaze. There was no avoiding it now. He'd have to tell Jared everything. Jared and the vineyard were the best thing that had ever happened to Jensen, and he might lose it all, but he owed Jared that much. Jensen nodded and let Jared gently guide him from the store. He cast one last warning glance at Vino over his shoulder, and Vino met it with one of his own. Jensen got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was no way this could end well.

[Part 5](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/14923.html#cutid1)


	5. You Go To My Head (P5)

_ **You Go To My Head (P5)** _

  


Jared drove everyone back to the vineyard in silence, his gaze fixed on the angry black line of clouds billowing on the horizon, watching them flash and catching the distant rumble of thunder over the grinding of the engine. They hardly ever got thunderstorms in this part of California, but when they did the storms hit with the wrath of God behind them. The weather seemed perfectly suited to Jared's mood.

If anyone noticed his white-knuckled grip on the wheel, at least they didn't mention it.

Jensen knew Cascone. Jensen had _worked_ for Cascone long enough to be on a first name basis. He'd also managed to piss Cascone off enough that he wanted Jensen dead. What the hell had Jared gotten himself into?

Jared had known Jensen was hiding something. Hell, even _Chad_ had noticed it and warned Jared that Jensen was bad news. And Jared had witnessed the way Jensen dealt with those thugs that tried to break into his wine cellar. It had been ruthless, and more than a little frightening, but Jensen…a mobster? That just didn't add up, not with the Jensen he knew.

Which begged the question, did Jared even know Jensen at all?

Once they reached the vineyard there was no time for uncomfortable silences. Jared slammed the truck door and pinned Jensen against it. Everyone else just stared, tense. "You want to tell me what the hell that was all about?"

Jensen frowned and said, "Look, I know that I owe you an explanation, but we don't have time for that right now. You have to leave. All of you. Pack everyone up and head out of town. Find someplace safe and lie low for a while until this all blows over."

Jared narrowed his eyes. "And what about you?"

Jensen paused long enough for Jared to know he wouldn't like the next words out of Jensen's mouth. "I'll head out of town somewhere, make sure I leave a trail that Vino can pick up. He wants me more than you. He'll follow me."

Jared had a sudden mental flash of Jensen lying in a pool of blood on the side of the road, empty eyes staring blankly into nothing, and he towered over Jensen in a sudden flash of anger. "Yeah, great plan, Jen. And when he finds you? What then?"

"He won't." Jensen might have sounded more convincing if he had managed to meet Jared's eyes.

"But if he does?"

"He won't find me, Jay!" Jensen shouted, frustration and anxiety making his voice break. Jared stared at Jensen for several long, hard seconds.

"Let's pretend for a moment that you manage to pull a miracle out of your ass and can shake him," Jared began, low and angry. "If you can get away from him, you're not ever coming back here, are you?" Jared's tone made it clear he already knew the answer.

Jensen looked away and didn't respond. Jared hoped Jensen could feel his gaze boring into the side of Jensen's skull. Finally, he held out his keys to Mike and said, "Do what he says. But make sure he goes with you."

"Wait, you're staying?" Mike asked.

"No, he's not staying," Jensen answered, panic rising in his voice. "Jared, listen to me. Vino's probably already on his way here, just—"

"I'm not running, Jensen!" Jared whirled on him. "This vineyard is all I've got. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'm not abandoning it to the wolves. If Cascone wants to come here, then let him come. I'm going to stay here and fight." Jared did his best to block out the hurt look that washed over Jensen's face at his words, then turned and walked away, the steady roll of thunder growing nearer.

* * *

Jensen managed to get everyone else out, including the dogs, but he still hadn't given up hope that Jared would take his advice and find somewhere safe to hole up. If nothing else, he could still hitch a ride into town and find the others.

Jensen had been pacing the rows in search of Jared for going on two hours, and it had grown dark. Not willing to go back for the gas lantern Jared kept in the cellar, Jensen was relying on the sporadic flashes of lightning to guide him through the maze of vines. The wind had begun to pick up as the storm drew nearer. A particularly bright flash of lightning made Jensen shield his eyes. When he looked up Jared was standing not ten feet from him, silhouette flickering in the sudden burst of light, his back to Jensen and face turned into the wind. Jensen watched quietly from behind, but he could tell by the set of Jared's shoulders when he became aware of Jensen's presence. Jensen counted the seconds between thunder claps until Jared broke the silence. _One one-thousand, two one-thousand…_

"You should have left with everyone else," Jared said, not turning around. His voice was quiet, but it carried clearly over the wind.

"I was just about to say the same thing to you," Jensen answered in the same tone. Another thick, lengthy pause, and the wind whipped around them with a faint roar. When Jared didn't make any further attempt at conversation, Jensen swallowed thickly and said, "I'm part of the reason Vino is after you now. I'm not going anywhere. But after this mess is over, if you want me to leave, I will."

Jared hesitated a second, then turned to face Jensen. A brief flash illuminated the firm set of his jaw at odds with the curiosity in his eyes. "What did you do?"

Jensen gave him the short version. "I crossed Vino, and he sent one of his thugs after me. I killed him. I've been running ever since." When Jared didn't reply, Jensen slowly walked forward, until he was close enough to make out Jared's impassive face in the darkness. "I'm sorry. I should have left a long time ago. I didn't mean to put you in danger, I just…I didn't want to go. Finding this place felt like my second chance, and I didn't want to give it up. I'm sorry."

Jensen's confession was followed by a silence thick enough to drown in, even as thunder roared overhead. The storm was right on top of them. Jared just looked at Jensen with an unreadable expression for a long time. It seemed like he thought he could find all the answers he needed just by studying Jensen's face, but Jensen wondered if he was even really seeing him right now. Then he reached out and took Jensen's hand. He began threading their fingers through the vines. It was a habit Jared had, to touch the vines, and now he was guiding Jensen's hands over the rough stalks in the same manner. It reminded Jensen of the way he used to run his hands over the beloved old mare out in his grandparents' barn. "When I first bought this vineyard, it was in bad shape. Abandoned, forgotten, falling apart without anyone to actually take care of it. A lot of people thought I was crazy for buying a run down piece of land and trying to restore it, but they just didn't understand." He released Jensen's hand, then carded his fingers through the short hairs at the base of Jensen's skull with that same gentle touch. "When you love something, you want to give it a second chance."

In that moment, Jensen's heart made a valiant effort to leap from his chest. He threaded his fingers through Jared's hair and pulled him down into a grateful kiss. He felt like he could breathe again, and he had to break the kiss to fill his lungs to bursting. Jensen's heart hammered loud enough to drown out the rolling thunder overhead and the patter of raindrops that had begun to fall. He leaned their foreheads together and breathed Jared's air, smiling. "That's the sappiest damn thing I've ever heard," he said past the sudden lump in his throat.

Jared laughed. "Yeah, but it's true." Jared grinned wide, the same soft, open smile that had made Jensen fall in love with him the first time he'd seen it. Jensen's answering smile lit up the darkness as he pulled Jared down for another kiss. No sooner had their lips met than the heavens gave a ferocious roar and opened up, pouring down several hundred gallons of water in a matter of seconds. Both men startled and looked to the sky, immediately drenched from head to toe. Jensen caught a glimpse of Jared laughing into the downpour, raindrops splattering across his face and rolling down his neck. The next thing Jensen knew he was being pulled through the darkness, led by the hand like a child. They ran through the rain even though they were already soaked to the skin.

Jensen was surprised when Jared led him towards the wine cellar, but he supposed he shouldn't be. It was the more easily defendable than the house since it had only one narrow staircase at the entrance, and it was also the most likely place for Vino to try to break in. Jared opened the door and stepped inside, shaking the water from his hair like a wet dog, then flashing Jensen a playful smile warmed by the amber glow of the oil lanterns. Jensen valiantly waited until Jared had secured the inner door lock before pulling him in close, a soft meeting of lips that slowly deepened. When Jared pulled away, Jensen tried to chase his mouth, but Jared held him back. "There's still one thing I want to know," Jared said, and Jensen held his breath. "Is Jensen your real name, or an alias?"

Jensen smiled a little to cover the sadness and guilt. "It's my real name."

"Good," Jared smiled, pulling Jensen in for another heated kiss. "Just wanted to make sure I'll be screaming the right name for the rest of the night."

Jensen huffed a laugh into Jared's mouth and let Jared's fingers begin working at the buttons of his shirt. They stumbled blindly down the stairs, frantically shedding clothes as they went. It felt so good to have Jared's hands on his skin again, as if he'd gone years without the touch instead of hours. Jared pressed the lengths of their naked bodies close, never breaking their kiss as he grabbed a tarp down off the shelf and spread it across the dirt floor. Frankly, Jensen wasn't about to let a little dirt stand between him and showing Jared with actions everything he'd said in words, but when he lowered Jared to the ground and was still able to kiss every inch of skin on his body, he was grateful.

Jensen pressed up into Jared's body above him, hungrily seeking more contact. He trailed his fingers down Jared's spine and he arched into it like a cat. Jensen's fingers continued their path down the cleft of Jared's ass to tease lightly at the sensitive skin around Jared's entrance. Jared gasped and said, "God, Jen, don't tease unless you can follow through."

"Uh…I don't have anything. We can't—"

"Wait! I think I might have…" Jared trailed off as he stood, rifling through the pockets of his pants. He returned bearing a wide grin and a small tin of petroleum jelly he must have bought in town that day. "Tell me I'm amazing," he crowed.

Jensen cradled Jared's face, holding his gaze for a long moment before he answered somberly, "You're amazing."

Jared's smile was blinding even in the darkness. He pressed his lips to Jensen's in a bruising kiss, the slip slide of their tongues against each other sending shock waves to Jensen's nerve endings. He heard Jared pop open the tin and he reached out to grab Jared's wrist. "Wait," he said quietly. "I was thinking…maybe I could…"

Jared's eyes widened slightly. "Jen, you don't have to do this. I don't expect—"

"I know. I want this," Jensen said, running his fingers through the damp curls at the base of Jared's skull. "I trust you," he added, hoping Jared would get it without Jensen having to explain further about why he wanted to do this for Jared. When Jared just smiled and kissed him softly, Jensen knew he understood.

Jared dipped two fingers into the tin, then touched them lightly to Jensen's entrance. "How do you want to do this?"

Jared's touch was too distracting and it took Jensen a moment to answer. "I…I want to see you."

Jensen felt Jared's smile against his lips. "Good, me too." Jared kissed him then, so deep and passionate that Jensen barely noticed when Jared slipped his first finger past the tight ring of muscle. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Jensen breathed. "Maybe try another?"

Jared obediently pressed a second finger in alongside the first, and this time Jensen felt the burn. He was about to tell Jared to go back to one when Jared brushed against something that made every nerve ending light up at once. "Holy fuck!" he moaned. "Do that again."

Jared chuckled but obliged. By the time he'd worked three fingers in he had Jensen writhing and loose and practically begging for it. "Jay, I'm ready. C'mon…"

Jared didn't need to be told twice. He wrapped Jensen's legs around his waist and pushed in slowly, letting Jensen adjust. If Jared's cock looked huge, then it felt twice as big inside Jensen's body, and he could feel every inch as it slid into him. He'd never felt anything like it before, never knew how badly he'd needed this, to be filled up by the person he cared about most in the world, and now that he found it with Jared he was never letting it go.

By the time Jared was all the way inside, Jensen felt like he'd been split open, but in the very best way possible. Still, Jared seemed to sense that he needed more and leaned down kiss him, sloppy and wet and so amazing he couldn't let it go. They kept kissing even after Jared started thrusting, shallow at first and then harder, until every rock of Jared's hips set bombs off behind his eyelids. Just when he thought it couldn't possible get any better before it killed him, Jared wrapped one hand around Jensen's cock and began jerking him hard and fast in time with his thrusts. Just a few pulls was all it took to bring Jensen to one of the best orgasms of his life, and Jared followed soon after.

Neither of them spoke as they drifted off to sleep, content to simply hold each other and know they were safe here, and loved. Jared had been trying to make the vineyard home, Jensen had been running from everything he considered home, but somehow they had found home in each other.

* * *

Jared startled awake, disoriented and confused. He immediately recognized the warm, naked body in his arms as Jensen, but it took him several seconds to realize they were still on the floor of the wine cellar, and another few seconds to recognize the noise that had awakened him. At the sound of soft rattling at the door, Jared went to high alert. He prodded Jensen until he saw one eye reluctantly crack open, then mouthed, "They're here." Quickly, they stood and scrambled into their clothes. They were still cold and wet from the rain, so Jared hastily pulled on his pants and left it at that, having no desire to freeze to death before Vino's men managed to get past the lock. A quick glance at Jensen confirmed that he had opted for the same clothing choice.

Jensen grabbed a couple of the larger boards from the pile in the corner. Just as he passed one off to Jared, they heard the lock break above them. The padded in bare feet over the dirt floor, standing shoulder to shoulder and pressing their backs to the wall by the foot of the stairs and holding their boards like baseball bats. At least their attackers would be bottlenecked, only able to descend the stairs in single file, and Jensen and Jared were armed and had surprise on their side. Jared heard the creaky third stair give. He counted down in his head, then gave Jensen the signal. Jensen swung the board as hard as he could, clocking the first thug in the face with a sickening wet smack that made Jared's stomach churn. He fell to the ground motionless just as another thug on the stairs let out a startled burst of automatic gunfire that struck one of the racks. The sound of shattering glass and panicked shouts filled the air, and after that it was pretty much chaos.

One thug was either brave or stupid and came rushing down the stairs, but Jensen was ready for him. He caught the guy across the left temple, sending him crashing to the floor unconscious. The next guy got lucky, turning the corner before Jensen had time to recover from his second hit. Jared brought his own board crashing down on the hand holding the gun. One of the guy's bones snapped and the gun went skittering across the floor. Jared brought the board back up under the guy's chin which threw his head back into a stone wall and he slid bonelessly to the ground. Jared made to dive for the gun but an arm around his waist hauled him back in time to see bullets ricochet off the wall right where he'd been headed, in plain view of the thugs on the stairs.

Jared went back to his position on the wall next to Jensen. There was a brief lull and they waited, poised to swing if needed. A split second later more automatic gunfire ripped through the mortar near Jensen's head. Jared pulled him back with a shout, but three more thugs took the opportunity to rush the stairs. They were on Jared and Jensen in an instant, pinning the side of their faces to the ground and wrenching their arms behind their backs. Jared felt a bony knee dig into his spine, but he couldn't turn to see the man holding him down, and he couldn't see Jensen. In fact, he couldn't see much of anything besides the floor until a pair of shiny patent leather shoes stepped in front of his face. "I must admit, Jared, I was hoping you'd be here, but I expected you and your friends to have left by now. I'm rather impressed by your resolve. Reminds me a little of myself, actually."

"Go to hell, Cascone," Jared spat into the dirt. A split second later, Jared's side erupted in pain as the wind was knocked out of him. Apparently the thug holding him was sporting a set of brass knuckles. Jared felt a rope being wound around his wrists, but he was too busy coughing and wheezing into the dirt to do much about it.

"Don't you fucking touch him!" Jensen shouted from somewhere to Jared's right. There was the sound of a brief scuffle that ended in a pained grunt, and Jared winced in sympathy. Jensen's ribs still weren't fully healed.

"Patience, Jenny boy. You'll get your turn soon enough," Cascone called cheerily. "Right now, Jared and I are a little busy." The statement was punctuated when a hand fisted into the hair at the back of his skull, hauling him to his knees. From his new position Jared could see now that it was Cascone's hand nearly ripping the hair from his skull. He could also see the remaining three thugs standing nearby, each holding a baseball bat at his side. "Take a good look Jared," Cascone muttered into Jared's ear, voice low. "I want you to see this." Then, to the men he said, "Do it."

Jared had a split second of terror as he imagined being forced to watch one of those bats come down on Jensen's skull, but as far as Jared could tell Jensen was still behind him, so he wasn't in immediate danger. Jared watched with dawning horror as the men walked to the first winerack, raised their bats, and brought them down to the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood. The wine spilled to the floor and soaked into the soil at their feet. A piece of Jared's heart broke along with each bottle and barrel that was destroyed. Cascone's men systematically destroyed every container in his cellar, effectively wiping out all traces of Jared's life's work. When it was all over, Cascone leaned close and snarled, "Now you'll have no choice to sell to me." Then with one last vicious yank on Jared's hair he sent Jared sprawling in the dirt, wrists still tied behind his back. He managed to roll over onto his back in the mud, and the first sight that greeted him was Cascone looming over Jensen's kneeling form, a gun held loosely at his side.

"And don't think I've forgotten about you, Jenny boy. All that patience is about to pay off," Cascone reminded with a smile. "I have to admit, I'm impressed Jenny. If anybody else had pulled the kind of stunt you did, they wouldn't have lasted six days, let alone six months. You're smart, I'll give you that. I could have used a man with your talent." Jensen didn't respond, just continued to watch Cascone with a cold, murderous gaze. Cascone was unfazed. He knelt down so he was eyelevel with Jensen and said in a low voice, "You know, I probably never would have found you if not for your one mistake: you got emotionally involved. You stuck around and took the risk, and now I've found you." Cascone's grin grew wider. "I've been looking forward to this day for a long time, Jensen. I had some great things planned for you, but you went and found me something better than anything I could have dreamed up." Cascone's voice took on a condescending tone as he slid his gaze sideways towards Jared. "You found yourself a _friend._"

Jensen's eyes went wide and terrified as he watched Cascone stand and advance on Jared, gun drawn. Jared tried to scramble back in the mud, barely registering Jensen's desperate protests over the pounding of his own heartbeat. He froze in terror, unable to do anything but stare dumbly as Cascone raised the gun and pointed it at Jared's heart. He saw Jensen struggling wildly with his captors in his peripheral vision, but soon even that was lost as Jared's vision narrowed down to just the barrel of the gun.

"Don't worry," Cascone said, pulling back the hammer on the revolver with a click. "I'll make sure he doesn't mourn your loss for very long."

For some reason, Jared's brain chose that moment to come out of shock and he did the first thing that came to his mind. He lashed out with his long legs and kicked Cascone in the gut, sending him reeling backwards and making the shot go wide. Cascone stumbled backwards into a wall, knocking one of the hanging oil lamps down into a puddle of wine. It shattered on impact, instantly igniting the wine in the dirt and on the wall. The burst of flame also caught Cascone's sleeve on fire, and as he thrashed about and his men tried frantically to put out their boss, the fire continued to spread. By the time Cascone had been saved half the wine cellar was alight.

Cascone stomped up to Jared looking angry and red faced, and Jared only had a moment to stare in shock before Cascone brought the butt of his revolver down hard to Jared's temple. Pain exploded white-hot behind his eyelids and his head was wrenched sideways at the impact. Over the high pitched buzzing in his ears, Jared thought he heard Cascone barking orders, something about leaving them to their own mess. He blinked hard to clear the grey at the edges of his vision without much success. He was dimly aware of Jensen's voice somewhere nearby, but nothing he was saying made any sense. He kept saying how sorry he was about something and how Jared needed to stay awake, but the words were getting jumbled together and it was giving him a headache, and when did it get so hot? Maybe if he went to sleep it would make him feel better…

Jared suddenly felt strong hands shaking him out of his nice nap. His vision swam and his stomach lurched, but he was able to make out Jensen's face inches from his. Jensen's lips were moving, but Jared had to focus to make out the words. "Jared, can you hear me? C'mon, Jay, you gotta wake up, okay? God, Jay, don't do this to me. Please…"

Jared's eyes stung and his lungs burned, but he was a lot colder than he had been a moment ago. As he regained more of his focus he could feel the raindrops on his skin, and he looked around curiously. "When did we get outside?" he asked.

Jensen smiled and smoothed Jared's wet hair from his forehead. "I carried your heavy ass out here," he said, but he was still smiling, so Jared figured it was okay. "Can you walk? We need to get you inside the house and warmed up."

Jared nodded, but then quickly decided that was the worst idea ever. "Yeah, I think so," he croaked, then let Jensen help him to his feet. When Jared caught sight of the image over Jensen's shoulder, it all came crashing back. The rain had already put out the worst of the flames, but there was no saving it. Jared wrenched himself from Jensen's grasp and stumbled towards the burned out husk of the wine cellar. Jensen felt himself falter, but Jensen caught him before he could fall to his knees in the mud.

Jared's already swimming mind went numb with shock trying to absorb it all. He'd lost everything. "It's gone," he muttered aloud to no one in particular. "Cascone won. I'll have to sell now. It's all I had, and it's gone."

Jensen didn't say anything, seeming to understand that there was nothing he could say to ease Jared's pain. Instead, he simply helped Jared get into the house and change into sweatpants, then pulled him into bed. Jensen wrapped himself around Jared's back, holding Jared close and bleeding warmth into Jared's clammy skin. Jared buried his face in the pillow and waited for tears he was too exhausted to shed.

Jared must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew it was morning and the pounding inside his skull was accompanied by someone pounding at his door. He started awake and reached instinctively for Jensen, but the side of the mattress next to him was empty and cold. The pounding started again, this time accompanied by shouting. "Jared!" Mike yelled loud enough to be heard several states away. "Jared, open up!"

Jared's head hurt like hell, but he scrambled out of bed and rushed to open the door, suddenly more awake than he had any right to be after the kind of night he'd had. It wasn't Jensen, but Mike was banging on his door like the world was about to end, and those two things made Jared's insides squirm with cold panic.

Jared flung the door open just as Mike raised his fist to pound again. He didn't spare a glance for Jared's rumpled appearance before he said, "Jensen's in jail."

Jared abruptly felt his knees give out and he had to clutch at the door frame to stay upright. "What?"

The words rushed out of Mike a mile a minute. "He walked to town last night to get me, told me to come check on you, something about your head. The next thing I know, he's walking in to the police station to turn himself in this morning. The cops say he's wanted for some murder back in Chicago, but they must have the wrong guy. I mean, c'mon, it's _Jensen_."

Jared felt like the ground was slowly sliding out from underneath his feet. His vision swam, and his head _hurt_, but he needed to keep it together. He tried to focus on a dark spot of color he could make out over Mike's shoulder. Jared concentrated, and the spot solidified into the form of Jared's truck. Gathering what was left of his nerves, Jared held out his hand. "Give me the keys," he demanded. "I'm driving."

* * *

Jensen sat in his tiny jail cell in county lock up, his face cradled in his palms. He knew he was doing the right thing, he just wished it didn't feel like he was making the worst mistake of his life.

The door to the small office outside the cell opened, and Jensen was unsurprised to see the deputy escort Jared inside. The look on his face could have melted steel, and he kept his furious gaze locked on Jensen as he spoke to the deputy. "Leave us alone for a minute?"

The deputy wisely didn't challenge Jared, simply opened the cell. Jared stepped through slowly, every movement finely controlled as if he was holding onto restraint by a thread. The cell door clanged shut and he felt his muscles instinctively tense, just like they did before every fight when his opponent stepped into the ring. As soon as the officer was gone, Jared spat, "This has to be the stupidest plan I've ever heard."

Jensen sighed. "Jared, I can give the FBI the information they need to get Cascone, and they've agreed to give the reward money to you. Five thousand dollars, Jay. With that kind of money, you can keep the vineyard long enough to get it up and running again."

Jared's expression wavered between fury and pain. He choked out, "I don't care. I don't care about the vineyard."

Jensen gave him a pitying look. "You really expect me to buy that, Jared? It's your home. That place means everything to you."

Jared flinched like Jensen had slugged him in the gut. "Not everything, Jen," he said, voice rough. He cupped Jensen's face in shaking hands and stroked the pads of his thumbs over Jensen's cheekbones. It was a testament to how far Jensen had come that he didn't flinch away from the semi-public touch, didn't even think about the fact that the deputy could walk in at any time and see everything in that simple gesture. Jensen closed his eyes and savored the feel of Jared's fingertips on his skin, wondering if this would be the last time he ever felt it. When he looked up he found Jared's face inches from his own, his glass-green eyes shining with pooling tears. "It's not too late," Jared whispered, quiet desperation lacing his tone. "I know the guard. We can get you out of here, get out of town, just the two of us."

A skeptical laugh escaped Jensen's throat. "You really think you could be happy like that? Leaving the vineyard behind, running from town to town, never able to put down any roots, constantly checking over your shoulder like a hunted animal…No one can live like that, Jay."

"I could," Jared said, not a hint of doubt in his voice. "I'd have you."

Jensen took a deep breath. It was so tempting, to just give in and run away with Jared. But Jensen knew it wouldn't be fair. Life as a fugitive would eat away at Jared's spirit, take away everything that made him the man Jensen had grown to love. It took all of Jensen's willpower to reach up and pull Jared's hands from his face, to take a step back and away from all he wanted. "It's only for a few years," Jensen said, his voice taking on a watery tone at the thought.

Just like that, all of Jared's earlier anger rushed back. "A few years _in prison_, Jen!" Jared shouted, throwing his arms wide in frustration. "What if Cascone's got men loyal to him on the inside, and they find out you're the one who turned him in? They'll know you ratted Cascone out! You'll be dead inside of a week, and I'll be—" Jared's voice faltered. He reached out and grabbed Jensen's shoulders in a vice-like grip, as if he could keep Jensen with him by simply holding on with all his strength. "I can't lose you, Jen." He pulled Jensen into a harsh kiss, lips crushing Jensen's under the weight of desperation and fear. Jensen's insides burned with the same need, and their bodies pressed so close it was like they were trying to crawl inside each other. Jensen clung to Jared just as urgently, letting himself have this one last time.

Even when the kiss broke neither of them were able to let the other go. They stayed wrapped around each other, Jensen's face pressed into the warm crook of Jared's shoulder, fighting back the sting of tears. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine," Jensen said, voice thick, trying to convince himself as much as Jared.

Jared held him impossibly tighter and his voice cracked like he was choking back sobs. "You said you'd stay!" He muttered angrily into the skin of Jensen's neck. "You promised me you wouldn't leave."

"I'm sorry," Jensen said, feeling a hot tear roll down his cheek. He hated how small his own voice sounded. "Wait for me?"

Jared huffed out a humorless laugh and said thickly, "You know I will."

The rattle of the doorknob heralded the deputy's return, and they reluctantly separated at the intrusion. The officer gave them a curious glance, but it turned to sympathy when he saw their red-rimmed eyes. He announced that the DA and some men from the FBI wanted to speak with Jensen, so it was time for Jared to leave. Jensen thought for a moment that the officer would have to drag Jared away by force, but then Jared deliberately relaxed the taught line of his shoulders and exited the cell. The bars to the cell slammed shut with a bang that made them both flinch. They exchanged one final glance and Jensen took in the sight of Jared, shoulders hunched inward and weary face bearing the look of a man who'd just seen his world crumble to dust. It would be the last time Jensen saw Jared for a very long time, possibly forever.

It was all Jensen could do not to fall apart at the thought.

* * *

Jared spent the rest of the day and well past sundown systematically hunting down every ounce of booze Chad kept hidden away and getting as stinking drunk as he possibly could. It was the last of his wine, his life's work, but he didn't care. He walked through the rows he'd loved so much. They had meant freedom before, but now they only felt like a heavy chain around his neck. The reward money meant Jared got to keep the vineyard, but it felt like he'd just lost everything.

Jared had his last, half-full bottle of wine in one hand, and the crumpled cashier's check in the other. Several times now he'd wadded it up and thrown it away, only to go back for it later and smooth out the wrinkles as best he could. He didn't see the point in keeping it. His heart wasn't in the vineyard anymore, it was in a jail cell with Jensen. Still, the small slip of paper was all he had left of Jensen, tangible evidence of just how much Jensen was willing to sacrifice for Jared. He stared at it for what felt like the millionth time, the neatly printed _$5,000_ easily legible in the moonlight.

In a flash of sudden fury, Jared hurled the wine bottle into the rows. It hit the trunk of a vine, splitting it in two and shattering the bottle. Just as quickly as the rage had come it was gone, leaving Jared feeling weak and empty. Jared sank to his knees in the cold dirt, lost and alone and more than ready to give up. He didn't know how long he sat there, legs going numb and silent tears pouring freely down his cheeks, before he heard soft footsteps behind him. No doubt Mike had come to find him and drag his sorry ass back to the house, but Jared just snarled without turning around, "Go the fuck away."

There was a pause, and then a voice said, "Jay?"

Jared whirled around so fast he overbalanced and fell on his ass. He looked up through vision blurred with alcohol and tears, but there was no mistaking the outline of Jensen's face in the moonlight. "What…How…I'm dreaming?"

The corner of Jensen's mouth quirked up, and he knelt until he was eye level with Jared. "Not quite, Jay. Remember that meeting with the FBI after you left? Seems the DA cut a deal with them. I got off on self defense. They let me go, as long as I agree to testify against Cascone in front of a grand jury." Jensen rubbed the back of his neck, then continued, "It's still not safe. There's a good chance that Cascone will send one of his men to take me out before the trial. I'm a liability, but the FBI's guaranteed they'll do what they can to protect me, so if you're willing to risk it…"

Jensen's words trailed off, but Jared barely heard them. His mind reeled, not quite daring to believe it. He reached out a hand to tentatively touch Jensen's face, his heart giving a triumphant flutter as he traced his fingers over Jensen's freckles. "So…you can stay?"

Jensen's smile nearly split his face in two. "I can stay," he answered, and Jared immediately pulled him into a gleeful kiss. He kissed Jensen like his life depended on it, like both their lives did, and it wasn't too far from the truth. Jensen kissed back with just as much passion and need, and he whispered once more against Jared's smiling lips, "I can stay."


	6. You Go To My Head Soundtrack

_ **You Go To My Head Soundtrack** _

  


[Download (MU)](http://www.megaupload.com/?d=F2A3WXY9)   
[Download (SendSpace)](http://www.sendspace.com/file/ikx65i)

1\. You Go To My Head (Billie Holiday)  
2\. It Don't Mean a Thing (If It Ain't Got That Swing) (Duke Ellington)  
3\. Brother, Can You Spare a Dime? (Bing Crosby)  
4\. Deep Purple (Artie Shaw &amp; Helen Forrest)  
5\. In The Mood (Glenn Miller)  
6\. Warm Valley (Duke Ellington)  
7\. Sing, Sing, Sing, pts 1 &amp; 2 (Benny Goodman)  
8\. In A Sentimental Mood (Benny Goodman)  
9\. Don't You Know I Care? (Al Hibbler and Duke Ellington)  
10\. I Got It Bad (And That Ain't Good) (Duke Ellington)  
11\. Stompin' at the Savoy (Benny Goodman)  
12\. All Of Me (Louis Armstrong)  
13\. Swingtime in the Rockies (Benny Goodman)  
14\. Any Old Time (Artie Shaw and Billie Holiday)  
15\. Dark Was The Night (Cold Was The Ground) (Blind Willie Johnson)  
16\. Moonlight Serenade (Glenn Miller)  
17\. Jumpin' At The Woodside (Count Basie and Quincy Jones)  
18\. Star Dust (Artie Shaw)  
19\. Bei Mir Bist Du Scho Pt 1 (Benny Goodman)  
20\. Exactly Like You (Benny Goodman)  
21\. It Don't Mean A Thing (If It Ain't Got That Swing) (Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington)  
22\. Goodbye (Benny Goodman)  
23\. I'll Be Seeing You (Billie Holiday)  
24\. The Glory of Love (Benny Goodman)  
25\. You Go To My Head (Louis Armstrong and Oscar Peterson)


	7. You Go To My Head Master Post

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[fandom: cw rps](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/fandom%3A%20cw%20rps), [fic: you go to my head](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/fic%3A%20you%20go%20to%20my%20head), [genre: angst](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/genre%3A%20angst), [genre: au](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/genre%3A%20au), [genre: drama](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/genre%3A%20drama), [genre: prompt/challenge response](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/genre%3A%20prompt%2Fchallenge%20response), [genre: romance](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/genre%3A%20romance), [pairing: jared/jensen](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/pairing%3A%20jared%2Fjensen), [rating: nc-17](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/tag/rating%3A%20nc-17)  
  
  
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**Title**: You Go to My Head  
**Author**: Ras Elased  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Pairing**: Jared/Jensen  
**Word Count**: 35,765  
** Summary**: The year is 1938, and Jared Padalecki has just bought a small vineyard in the midst of Depression-era California. He has poured his heart and soul into working the land and creating the perfect wine, but he is still struggling to make ends meet. When he hires a drifter named Jensen to help during the summer harvest, he thinks his biggest problem is coming up with the money to pay Jensen's wage, but he soon finds himself inexplicably drawn to the mysterious man. Jensen's got street smarts and a mean right hook, but he's unprepared for the challenge of fighting off Jared's advances as well as his own simmering attraction. Jared's attention threatens to uncover the dark past Jensen left behind in Chicago, a past he's been running from, and a past that is about to catch up with them both…

[Part 1](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/13841.html#cutid1) | [Part 2](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/14305.html#cutid1) | [Part 3](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/14403.html#cutid1) | [Part 4](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/14650.html#cutid1) | [Part 5](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/14923.html#cutid1) | [Soundtrack](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/15118.html#cutid1) | [Notes and Thanks](http://ras-fic.livejournal.com/15717.html) | [Artwork](http://peach-gurl.livejournal.com/28184.html#cutid1)

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**You Go To My Head Master Post**   
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	8. You Go To My Head Notes

_**You Go To My Head Notes**_

  
Woo hoo! It's finally done, and just barely under the wire! It's probably littered with typos, but that's what happens when you wait to the last minute and don't have time to proofread. If you find anything hinky, please let me know and I'll be sure to fix it. Thanks!

This fic was a blast to write, start to finish. I'm still not 100% pleased with it, but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy picturing the J-twins getting sweaty in period costumes (and out of them. Hee.) \o/ This will be the last big fic I'll finish before I have to go back to grad school, because with all my studies I just don't think I'll have the time. I'm going to miss writing fanfic, but I honestly couldn't have asked for a better way for my fandom career to go on hiatus than with a huge, fun fic. (You might even say I went out with a "bang!" *headdesk*) So I owe my biggest thanks to the people who set up [](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/profile)[**spn_j2_bigbang**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/): [](http://audrarose.livejournal.com/profile)[**audrarose**](http://audrarose.livejournal.com/), [](http://estrella30.livejournal.com/profile)[**estrella30**](http://estrella30.livejournal.com/), and [](http://wendy.livejournal.com/profile)[**wendy**](http://wendy.livejournal.com/). Thanks so much for organizing this amazing event, it was a blast!

And of course, another huge thanks to [](http://peach-gurl.livejournal.com/profile)[**peach_gurl**](http://peach-gurl.livejournal.com/) for her awesome coverart. She did a fantastic job, and I just couldn't be more pleased with it. You rock!

Random factoids about this fic:  
~I got the idea for this story while reading a book about wine tasting (because yes, it turns out I actually _am_ that much of a dork) and I starting wondering what it would be like to own a vineyard. Then, of course, it turned into J2 owning a vineyard, and it just snowballed from there.  
~The villian's name was originally Vino Marcone, the OC grandfather of Gentleman Johnny Marcone of Dresden Files fame. However, I figured this was either too close to a crossover or a reference that lots of people wouldn't get, so I started thinking of other possibilities. Then my brother took me to the Italian restaurant where he's having the rehearsal dinner for his marriage, and the entire place just screamed "mafia business front" to me, plus it had the added bonus of sounding vaguely like Marcone. W/W!  
~Two missing scenes that never got written were Chad, Mike, and Tom being forced to deliver Becca's baby, and an epilogue in which Jeff comes back for a visit and sees what Jared's done with the place post-arson.  
~My puppy knocked a glass of water onto my laptop three days ago. It fried _everything._ I lost ALL of my programs and files, including my 27,000 word big bang fic...which I hadn't backed up since it was roughly 20,000. O_O It is only by divine intervention and a very lovely Firedog tech named Sameer that I even had a fic to post today, let alone a new laptop to finish finalizing the damn thing!  
~I added roughly 10,000 words to this thing in the last 4 days. For those of you who know how slow I write, you understand what a miracle that is. Oh, and in that same time frame I also packed up everything I own in my entire house and shipped it to Richmond, VA. I'm literally running on Red Bull and the 1.5 hours of sleep I had 29 hours ago. Oh, and did I mention that I'm driving sixteen hours across country tomorrow? With my parents and a 5 month old puppy. Kill me now.

I'mma go crash like the dead now. Yeah, that [](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/profile)[**spn_j2_bigbang**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_j2_bigbang/) icon was never more appropriate...

  
Also, I just want to give a very special thanks to everyone who checks out my personal LJ or reads and/or reviews my fic. You guys are all awesome and you've really been there for me over these past few years, so thank you! ♥


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